Monsters
by Ace of House Slytherin
Summary: Fate is inescapable. Hermione knows this. Her friends were fated to leave forever and she was fated to bear the pain of rebuilding the world. She didn't want it. She refuses to help a world that has done nothing but destroy. The beasts at her heels are suffocating her and only one person can help. In return, she will help bring about a new world.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N Welcome all to Monsters! For the time being, this story will receive weekly updates until my other story is completely written. Enjoy!**

 **All rights belong to JK Rowling**

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."  
― Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

It wasn't supposed to end this way. She wasn't supposed to be taken out by a housewife that had gotten in a lucky shot. She was supposed to go out in a blaze of glory! For Merlin's sake, she was Bellatrix goddamn Black! Her husband was dead and she would never keep his name. Not when her own name carried so much more weight. Her husband was a weak, pitiful man who had used her to gain favor with the Dark Lord.

Her Lord! She had not seen the end of the battle but knew he had fallen. The Golden Trio was more powerful than they had thought. All of his Horcruxes had been destroyed so there was no chance he was coming back. Not that she could do anything to avenge her Lord. Her crimes were too immense to escape from Limbo.

"Ah, Bellatrix. How lovely to see you again. After the first time, I had not expected to see you until much later. You are not supposed to be here," a voice of dark chocolate spoke.

"You're damn right I'm not supposed to be here! The most feared Death Eater taken out by a housewife!" She seethed.

"Temper, child, temper. You have not mellowed out in the last few decades."

"You insolent-wait. Who are you?"

"You do not remember me? Pity. Think Bellatrix."

Bellatrix was quiet. The voice was familiar but she couldn't quite place it. It had to be from her childhood, that much was obvious. With a gasp, Bellatrix suddenly remembered the last time she had heard the dark chocolate vocals of Death.

" _You useless girl! How will our line carry on if you will not behave the way you should? No husband will have you if you continue to behave this way!" Cygnus Black shouted, punctuating his screams with heavy blows. He had no restraint, releasing a flurry of fists upon her. He was livid and his drunken state did not alleviate the situation. Cygnus Black did not stop when Bellatrix was claimed by unconsciousness. He continued to beat his daughter until Druella Black came across him and he realized what he had done. She knew better than to say anything as he stormed off, merely calling for an elf to care for her daughter._

 _While Bellatrix was unconscious, she was in a place that was neither here nor there. A Limbo of sorts. She could not help the boredom that filled her while she was surrounded by white. She had no concept of time in this place, but it couldn't have been very long-at least, not in the waking world-before a figure of darkness spoke to her in a dark chocolate voice._

" _Who might you be, little witch?"_

" _I'm Bellatrix. Who are you?" she responded haughtily._

" _I am Death, child. You must leave now, you don't belong here. There is too much you have to do."_

" _Wait, how do I know what I'm supposed to do? And where is here? What is this place?"_

 _Death had already gone. She had the strange sensation of being sucked through a straw before opening her eyes to see the ceiling of her bedroom._

"You're Death. But what do you mean I'm not supposed to be here? I'm dead! This is where dead people go!"

"You are not dead yet. That is much more unpleasant than this. Find the girl."

"What girl?! There are thousands of girls!"

"You'll know. The darkness is eating at her. Help her beat it so you can do what needs to be done."

Once again, the sensation of being sucked through a straw overtook Bellatrix. Opening her eyes, she saw she was still lying where she had fallen but there were no sounds of fighting. The bodies of her fellow Death Eaters had not been touched but the Order members had been moved. She saw the body of her Lord lying unceremoniously on the ground and she fought the urge to rage. It would do her no good, and she was not strong enough to fight right now. She didn't have her wand, but she had another. After standing, she turned on the spot and Apparated to Black Manor.

The Manor had been abandoned since her parents died shortly after she became a Death Eater. No one would think to search for her here, nor would anyone want to. One look at the house and it would be obvious no one had visited in decades. It was large and decrepit, not fit to be inhabited. Parts of the house had collapsed and Bellatrix smiled faintly at the reminder of her epic rage that had destroyed the house and killed her parents. Bellatrix didn't care. She didn't have anywhere else to go. The remaining Death Eaters were scattered and her sister had betrayed the cause. Hissing in rage, she threw open the front doors and stormed through the hallways, violently repairing the interior with the wand that wasn't hers. It worked fine and had the same core but the wood was wrong. Her wand was rough and bent. This one was straight and smooth despite the vine wrapping the length of it. She was tempted to snap it in two but then she would be without a wand and her current status would make obtaining one too difficult. She would figure out how to get her own wand back and then she could rid herself of this one.

Bellatrix felt better after using her magic. Even if it wasn't destructive, using what was left of her magic made her calmer. It would take some getting used to, but if any luck her house elf would come when she called. She would try later, right now she needed proper sleep in a place she would never be found. This was her home for the time being, while she tried to figure out what exactly Death had sent her back for. She had no clue who the girl could be and she didn't know where to start but she could deal with that later. Sleep was calling to her and she had no energy to resist the siren song.

* * *

Hermione wanted to feel victorious. She wanted to be happy that the war was finally over. She had never been a particularly happy person, not until she had met Harry and Ron. Not that it mattered now, neither of them survived the battle. She was the sole surviving member of the Golden Trio and she hated it. She never meant to be the face of victory, but with Harry and Ron gone, the world was looking to her as their savior. She didn't want to be. She never wanted any of this. So many people had died in this war but she was still here. Still alive, when she really didn't want to be.

It was stupid, really. They entered into a war they didn't even know about, oblivious to the cost. They had survived so much that should have killed them those few years ago. They thought they would be untouched by the tragedy of war but it was all a lie. A stupid, twisted, fucking lie. War does not recognize youth or innocence or good intentions. War destroys everything in its path and corrupts what it doesn't take. They should have known better, they had been so foolish. To think their luck would save them from their fate had been naive. It was always supposed to be this way. Harry was fated to die battling Voldemort. Ron was fated to die taking on more than he could handle. Hermione was fated to be the sole survivor, unable to help her friends when it really mattered. Hermione fought the bitter laugh that threatened to slip from her.

"There is still much to be done, Hermione. The Death Eaters the fled have to be caught and Hogwarts needs to be rebuilt. Since you played a large part in Voldemort's downfall, you do not have to take your exams if you wish to work for the Ministry," Kingsley spoke, looking at the downtrodden girl.

"Thank you, Kingsley. If it's all the same, I'd prefer to help rebuild Hogwarts and take my exams." Hermione's arms were wrapped around her and her shoulders were hunched.

"I understand. We all need time to mourn those we lost. Take care of yourself, Hermione." Kingsley placed a large hand on the girl's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. He could tell Hermione was devastated by the loss of Harry and Ron and knew she would need time to grieve before she could feel normal again. As McGonagall approached, Kingsley took his hand from Hermione's shoulder, turning her towards the new Headmistress.

"Hermione, how are you feeling?" the Headmistress asked, eyes flicking over her favorite student, a small frown on her face.

"About how you'd expect, I suppose. What do you need, Professor?" Hermione asked in a whisper.

"I wanted to offer you a place in the castle if you plan to help rebuild."

"Thank you, Professor."

"You have always been like a daughter to me, Hermione. I know you have sacrificed so much for the war and I will do whatever I can to help you."

"Thank you, professor."

McGonagall placed an arm around Hermione's thin shoulders. The girl's face was devoid of any emotion and the gauntness of her features made her look like a corpse. Her eyes lacked their usual fire and McGonagall's frown deepened. The war exacted a heavy toll from Hermione. She had lost so many people she cared about, she had obliviated her parents to protect them, and she had been tortured.

Hermione grasped her left elbow with her right hand, staring at the bodies piled in the Great Hall. Those that were injured were being tended to by Madame Pomfrey and healers from St. Mungo's. Hermione watched blankly as the healers darted about, focusing on the most extreme injuries. Kingsley beckoned one of them over to look at Hermione. She didn't have any noticeable injuries but he wanted to be sure.

Hermione felt the arm around her shoulders retract so the healer could inspect her. Upon first glance, the girl looked mostly fine. She had some abrasions and was a bit too thin but that could all be taken care of. What was most concerning was her lack of reaction to any stimuli. The healer chalked it up to grief over the loss of her friends, thinking it would pass with time.

"She just has a few scrapes and could do with proper meals. She's a bit unresponsive but it shouldn't last long. She's been through a lot the past year. The scar on her arm can't be healed, it's too late, but it should fade as time goes on," the healer reported to Kingsley and McGonagall.

"Thank you, you may go back to treating the others," Kingsley spoke.

He looked at Minerva, eyes full of concern for the young witch. Her expression mirrored his. Hermione would have a long way to go before she was back to her old self but they had faith she could do it. She had always been strong. Hermione did not have the same belief in herself as they did. She could feel the beasts clawing at the back of her mind, around the edges of her psyche. She rolled the bent walnut wood dangling from her fingertips, not trying to ignore the stinging of her arm and voices in her head. None of it mattered now. She wouldn't lie and say it was uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, really. Even after all this time they were still with her, a demented sort of comfort derived from the fact that it would always be the one constant in her life. No matter how far she tried to run, she could only get so far before she couldn't anymore, and the beasts would always catch up to her, taunting her with truths and lies.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Welcome to chapter 2 of Monsters! Are you excited? Because I am.**

 **Enjoy.**

 _"_ People who have monsters recognize each other. They know each other without even saying a word."

-Benjamin Alire Saenz

* * *

Hermione stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, wet hair and clothes sticking to her but she paid it no mind. She had taken a walk to escape the noise in her head after spending the day restoring the school. It was dark and raining but she enjoyed the cold water and low light. The trees were large and intimidating, cast in shadow and heavy with rain. It was always creepy, even in daylight but something about the night made it _alive_. Hermione took a step closer to the line of shadows, her feet squelching in the mud. Behind her, Hogwarts was warm and dry, it's usual profile marred by the destruction of the battle. It was no less inviting.

"Hermione, what are you doing out here? You're going to get sick. Come on," Minerva said, frantically walking to the girl. She had noticed her disappearance a few moments ago and knew Hermione was prone to walking the grounds. She had not expected to find her barefoot and soaked, standing at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth as she led a pliant Hermione back to the castle, casting a drying and warming charm over her.

Hermione allowed Minerva to guide her back to Hogwarts. She hadn't noticed she had been shivering until the Headmistress cast the charms, nor did she notice how close she had been to entering the forest alone. She wasn't sure what drew her there, maybe it was the silence it offered, or corporeal beasts that could eat her if they pleased rather than pushing her into insanity. The forest could kill her so easily and maybe that's what she had been hoping for. Hermione rolled bent walnut through her fingers, taking comfort in something that had caused so much pain at the hands of a woman she still had nightmares about. She could still feel Bellatrix carving the word into her arm, feel the _Crucios_ she had suffered. It wasn't as disturbing as it used to be. For Hermione, it was the only thing that hadn't changed since the war ended, since she lost her friends and parents. It wasn't pleasant, but it wasn't unpleasant. It wasn't really anything, just consistent and Hermione took comfort in that. She saw movement in the trees and couldn't stop the small smile. She knew what it was.

Minerva ushered Hermione to the room she was staying in, being one of the few people staying at the castle full time. Other students came for the day but went home at night. Hermione didn't have that anymore. Without Harry and Ron, she felt out of place among the Weasleys. Molly tried to convince her to stay with them at the Burrow but Hermione had just shaken her head, not able to bear the reminder of the two boys. Hogwarts was different, they didn't enjoy Hogwarts as much as Hermione had. All of their adventures were here, but she couldn't bring herself to step into the forest. Tonight was the closest she had come to never turning back. They thought she was healing, getting better, and Hermione let them, for their own peace of mind. She knew she wasn't. She could feel the beasts at her heels and if she didn't do something soon, they would consume her.

"You seem like you need a break, Hermione. What would you say to getting away from here for a bit? Maybe a month or two?" Minerva suggested.

"I'm needed here," Hermione bluntly stated.

"We can manage without you for a bit. After all that's happened in such a short amount of time, you need time to relax and heal without distractions. Don't think I haven't noticed you working harder than everyone and eating the least. You're going to exhaust yourself."

Hermione shrugged, not having a response to Minerva's words. It was true, she ate enough to keep going but worked herself to the point where she fell into bed every night and woke up to do it again. It was a distraction. The work kept her busy and if she did enough, she would be so tired she wouldn't have time to think about everything. It wasn't healthy but it worked for her. It kept her mind off Harry and Ron and everyone else.

Minerva examined Hermione. Her posture was slumped and she was dirty from repairs and mud. Her eyes were haunted and she had faint lines around her mouth from never smiling. She was still too thin but it wasn't as noticeable as it had been the day of the battle. It looked like the life was being sucked out of her and Minerva knew she couldn't allow her favorite student to work herself to death. Hermione was like a daughter to her and she would not stand by and watch the self-destructive behavior. She saw how close Hermione was to entering the Forbidden Forest and stopped her because she knew if the girl entered she would never make it out.

"Hermione, I am sending you to my cottage on the Isle of Man. It is relatively secluded and near the ocean and I think it will do you good to have a break. There is a coinhabited village close enough to walk to and I have a friend that will check in on you from time to time. My house elf will make sure you eat properly. I will visit when I can but I must oversee the repairs to the school. I do not want to force you to go but I will. Do not argue with me, Hermione," Minerva said, giving the girl a stern gaze when she opened her mouth to object.

"Alright." Hermione shrugged. She knew it was pointless to argue and a change of scenery would be nice. She would be alone aside from the occasional checkup and the house elf. It was more than she had here and she could always leave if she didn't like it.

Minerva was shocked at how easily Hermione agreed. Hermione was stubborn and normally would have argued to stay and help. After the battle, she had been compliant and unresponsive to most things. Students tried to engage her but she never answered, or when she did it was a shrug or noncommittal grunt. People still tried, everyone wanted to know what happened while they had been on the run but Hermione had built a tower and hid inside. She had not spoken of the war to anyone. She hadn't really spoken at all.

"I will inform my friend tonight. Tomorrow at lunch I will take you over there and introduce you to him. He can help with anything you might need."

"Thank you, Minerva."

Minerva left Hermione, confident that she would not wander off in the night. She hoped some time away from reminders of the two boys would help Hermione. It was clear the girl was suffering but Minerva did not understand why she seemed to want to. In all her years of knowing the girl, she had never been so puzzled by her behavior. She regretted the Golden Trio needing to be involved in the war but it was inevitable. Hermione stood in the doorway a few moments after the Headmistress left, slowly reaching out and shutting the door.

* * *

Bellatrix crumpled the newspaper in her hands. _The Daily Prophet_ had done nothing but run stories about the downfall of her Lord and kept tabs on the capture of Death Eaters that had escaped from the battle for the past two weeks. She couldn't stop the growl that ripped from her throat as she tore the newspaper into shreds. Her house elf had been fetching them for her and preparing meals, thrilled to have someone to serve again. Bellatrix repeated her morning process every day, reading the paper, growing angry, destroying it. She was gleeful that Potter and Weasley perished in the war. The girl had lived but had avoided giving a statement to any reporters. She hadn't said anything about the war to anyone at all as far as she could tell.

This gave Bellatrix pause. She remembered the girl's behavior during her torture and something didn't match up. Sure, the girl had lost her friends but everyone knew she didn't need them the way they needed her. There was more to the story and Bellatrix wasn't certain why she cared. Ideally, the girl still had her wand but there was no way for her to get it back. Not while she was rebuilding Hogwarts. Bellatrix pondered the change in Hermione before growing frustrated, not coming up with a plausible reason. She strode angrily out of the dining room, robes billowing behind her. If she wanted answers she would have to find them. Apparating to the Forbidden Forest, Bellatrix assumed her Animagus form, perching in a tree as a large raven. She would observe the happenings of the people rebuilding the school, waiting for the opportunity to lure the girl away.

Everyday, Bellatrix sat in one of the trees on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and every evening she saw Hermione walking the grounds. She was aimless, never really going anywhere, just going anywhere but where she was. She often gravitated to the forest, walking along the edge or just staring into it. Bellatrix could see the desire to just _go_ in the girl's eyes. Something was holding her back. She would stare blankly into the forest, but she would always turn around as if something was behind her. The spell would be broken and Hermione would trudge back to the castle. It was strange, she never seemed to have a wand on her and she yearned to venture into one of the most treacherous places in the wizarding world. Bellatrix was intrigued, so she never acted, only observed Hermione.

Tonight was different from the other nights. Usually, Hermione left well before full dark but she still stood there. It was raining and she was barefoot and closer to stepping into the forest than she ever had been. Bellatrix tilted her head, curious as to whether the girl would do it. She remained hidden in the shadow of the tree. She watched as the girl took the occasional step forward. Her hair and clothes were plastered to her and she looked so gaunt. Bellatrix recognized the look in the girl's eyes. It was the same look she had after she had escaped Azkaban. One more step would put Hermione in the forest and after that, there would be no turning back for Hermione. She knew the girl understood that and she also knew the girl didn't care.

Just as Hermione was about to take the final step, Minerva appeared out of nowhere, halting the girl. Bellatrix wanted to scream. She had been so close. Silently spreading her wings, she made to take off, sending one last glance to Hermione. The girl was absently twirling her wand through her fingers and Bellatrix lingered long enough for Hermione to see her. A flicker of recognition passed through Hermione's eyes and she gave a slight smile. It was the first emotion Hermione had shown in all the time Bellatrix had observed her. She gave a subtle nod, telling the girl she had her wand before silently flying deeper into the forest and Apparating home. She didn't entirely understand their exchange. She didn't need to. She would be able to get her wand back soon and that was all that mattered.

Bellatrix couldn't stop the insane laughter that bubbled in her throat. It was hilarious to think the world's Golden Girl had kept her wand when she could easily get a new one. She hadn't failed to notice how Hermione would absently stroke her scar while staring into the Forbidden Forest. There was darkness in her eyes that no one else had seen but she had and she would use it to her advantage. She recognized the girl's need to hurt in order to feel anything. Bellatrix knew Hermione was hiding something big, something no one else knew. She intended to find out what that was and use it. The Golden Girl wouldn't be golden for long. She was tarnished before she ever got the name.

Laughter echoed through the halls of Black Manor as Bellatrix rejoiced. Hermione would be so easy to sway, she was already barely holding on. The girl wanted nothing more than to slip into madness and Bellatrix would guide her. She didn't know why, but she knew Hermione was the one Death told her to find. Now all she had to do was lead her down a path she was already aiming for. It was almost too easy. The darkness eating at Hermione was invisible to everyone but her. The wizarding world would know she had not been killed by an incompetent housewife. Even if it meant she had to destroy the world. She didn't know what her task was but she didn't care. Bellatrix Black was returned and nothing would stop her this time. She didn't need her Lord anymore. She never had. She had intended to take power from him when he won, Azkaban had set her back a little bit. She had been lost in insanity and didn't remember her goals anymore but she did now. And this time, nothing would make her forget. The world would bow at her feet or burn, and it wouldn't be possible without the darkening of their precious Golden Girl.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Welcome to chapter three readers. I'm not sure I mentioned but this story will not be pleasant or happy or anything of the sort. It will be rough and raw and brutal. So, if that's not your thing you might want to forget about this story. If it is your thing, then welcome and I hope you enjoy the twisted story of our lovely witches.**

 _Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by such slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity or ruin._

- _Frankenstein,_ Mary Shelley

* * *

Hermione waited in Minerva's office for her to Apparate them to the Isle of Man. She was more than capable of doing it herself, but Minerva would not allow her to, worried the girl would disappear. It's not that she didn't trust Hermione, not entirely, anyway. She did trust her but her judgment wasn't sound right now and Minerva didn't want to run the risk of losing Hermione. She was hesitant to leave the girl by herself but had no other choice, really. She would never get better if she continued down her current path.

Minerva gently approached Hermione, holding out her arm for the girl to take before Apparating them to her cottage on the Isle of Man. Hermione took her fingers off Minerva's arm, studying the area with a blank expression. It was beautiful but Hermione didn't feel any different than she had at Hogwarts. She looked over at Minerva, waiting for the older witch to move first. The Headmistress led Hermione down the dirt drive to the cottage where her friend was waiting on the front porch.

"Hullo, Minny. Nice to see you again! Is this Hermione?" he greeted cheerfully rising with a wave.

"Nice to see you too, Jerry. Yes, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is my friend, Jerry. If you need anything he can help you. He lives on the property with his wife, about a mile east," Minerva explained. Hermione nodded, not saying anything. Jerry's smile didn't falter, but Minerva found herself frowning again at Hermione's lack of anything.

"Hullo, Hermione. I'm Jerry. My wife is named Linda. She's with a client but she promised to come over when she's done," he said, extending his hand to Hermione.

"What does your wife do?" she whispered, hesitantly taking his hand.

"We both work as private soul healers. And we maintain Minerva's property when she's not here in exchange for a place to stay."

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she pulled her hand away, turning to glare at Minerva.

"Hermione, do not give me that look. I did not bring you here so they could treat you. I brought you here because you need time away from everything. If you wish to be treated you can make the arrangements yourself. I apologize, but I must be returning to Hogwarts. Say hello to Linda for me," Minerva said, laying a gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder before removing it and Disapparating. Hermione remained where she was, carefully studying the man in front of her. The voices in her head screamed at her to run, the beasts trying to drag her back, away. This man would be able to see them. Hermione stared blankly at Jerry. She did not _need_ a soul healer, didn't _want_ one. They would take it all away and Hermione couldn't live without the beasts anymore.

"Would you like to go inside? We can have biscuits and tea and I'll tell you about the property and what's in town," Jerry said, still smiling gently at Hermione. He could see the damage to her psyche but would not push her to talk if she didn't want to. And he could see that she really didn't want to. Hermione nodded and Jerry led her to the small living room.

"Dolly is the house elf here, just call her if you need anything. You won't be able to Apparate directly into the cottage if you leave but you can Apparate to the drive. Only Minerva, myself, and Linda can Apparate onto the property and there are wards preventing anyone from entering so you will not have to worry about reporters following you. Anyone directly accompanying you will be allowed access but will always need you with them to get past the wards. If you have any appetite preferences just tell Dolly. Linda and I are always at your disposal should you need us or want company. One of us will be by every few days to check in on you."

Jerry took a seat after Hermione did, sitting across from her and pouring her a cup of tea. She took it, not saying anything, just staring into the cup of dark liquid. She nodded when he finished speaking but still didn't say anything. He observed her carefully, making note of the dull eyes and gaunt figure, the way her shoulders naturally hunched as if the entire world rested on her shoulders, the way she tapped her fingers against the side of the cup or bounced her leg ever so slightly. He could see the careful mask of neutrality she wore, knowing it was because she couldn't face all that happened yet. He saw the way her hand would sometimes rub over a scar on her left forearm, eyes flickering with remembered pain.

"Can I ask you something, Hermione?"

She shrugged, not saying yes but not saying no. Jerry decided it was safe to continue after a moment of observing her.

"Why are you so hesitant to see a soul healer?"

Hermione was quiet for a moment, gathering her thoughts before asking, "Have you been able to help every single person that comes to you?"

"There are some cases where my wife and I end up referring patients to a different soul healer because we are unable to assist them but as far as we know, they benefit from the person we recommend. Not everyone can be healed, though. It can be an agonizing process and there are some who would rather be broken than go through the pain of being fixed."

"When you say fixed how do you mean?"

"It's difficult to explain. I could give a small demonstration but I know you don't want that. When the soul breaks, insanity sometimes slips through the cracks. Other times, a person's personality will change entirely. It depends on the damage and the person. When a soul is fixed, it seals the crack but the soul is sometimes still scarred. Sort of like fixing a mirror by Muggle means you can see where it was broken but it's not anymore."

Hermione looked thoughtful, her knees pulled to her chest and her chin resting on top. Her fingers tapped against her knees and there was a hint of curiosity in the normally blank eyes. Jerry searched her for any signs of discomfort and found none. The front door opened and closed and Hermione withdrew slightly.

"Linda, this is Hermione. Hermione, this is Linda," Jerry said, hugging his wife and turning to Hermione as he introduced her.

"Hello, Hermione. It's nice to finally meet you," Linda spoke softly, kneeling in front of Hermione and giving her a gentle, genuine smile. Hermione regarded her for a moment, hesitation clear on her face before she nodded. Linda took in her appearance. She clutched her knees to her chest and she looked fragile but Linda could tell that she was not as weak as her body led a person to believe. Her eyes were dark and haunted, her face stony, betraying no emotion. She could see the restlessness of someone who was used to constantly moving about and the way she seemed to be listening behind her as if she were being chased or someone was whispering in her ear.

"Hello," Hermione finally whispered, observing Linda as she had been observing her. The witch was cheery, teeth white and voice kind. She had pleasant features and brown hair, well tamed. Linda's smile grew, glad Hermione had spoken.

"Unless you wish for us to stay, we will be going, but feel free to find us or ask Dolly to fetch us'," Jerry said, watching the exchange between Hermione and his wife.

Jerry and Linda both looked to Hermione who shrugged, not really caring one way or the other if they stayed. They didn't push her to talk like everyone else did but she also enjoyed being away from other people. She had been with Harry and Ron for so long, it was difficult for her to be with anyone else. And it was hard having two people studying her so closely. She felt like they could see the beasts behind her and she didn't want them to. They were hers and if anyone knew, her twisted comfort would be gone. Jerry and Linda looked at each other, recognizing the girl's unstated desire to be alone before taking their leave together.

"Dolly?" Hermione called after a few moments of sitting on the couch.

"Yes, Miss Hermione?" the house elf asked as she appeared with a faint _pop_.

"If I write a letter, can you deliver it? Or is there an owl I can use?"

"Whichever you prefer, Miss. Would you like Dolly to bring you a quill and parchment?"

"Yes."

* * *

Bellatrix sat in her tree, waiting for Hermione to take her evening wander around the grounds. It was already later than normal, but Bellatrix suspected that if Hermione was going to leave for good, it would be in the dead of night when no one could stop her. Still, Bellatrix couldn't help the feeling that Hermione hadn't actually seen her that night and was done walking by the woods. It was nearly midnight when she gave up, her mood soured as she Apparated back home to Black Manor. Throwing open the door, she was met with the sight of her house elf bent in a trembling bow, a piece of parchment held in shaking hands. Bellatrix tore the letter from the house elf's hands, glaring at everything as she opened the letter.

 _The Isle of Man. Shelby Reservoir. East side. Midnight._

Bellatrix let the letter fall from her hand as she Apparated to the indicated location. She would be getting her wand back tonight, along with something much more useful. She couldn't help her excitement as she glanced around the area, searching for Hermione. It was a few minutes past midnight but she hoped the girl would still be here. Looking around, she saw her sitting by the edge of the water, looking at the reflection of the sky on the black water.

"Hello, pup. Did you miss me?" Bellatrix asked, standing next to the brunette. Hermione looked up at the dark witch, a small smile on her face, her eyes alive.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she whispered, lips barely moving as black eyes bore into her own. She was captivated by the onyx hair, ivory skin, and ruby lips. She shivered, remembering how it had felt to be under the dark witch. Bellatrix smirked, sitting next to Hermione on the grass. She recognized the look in Hermione's deep hazel eyes, the way they were gently unfocused, going back to when she had carved the word into tender flesh.

"Of course I would. You belong to me, pup. I know you haven't forgotten," she whispered, breath fanning out over Hermione's neck. She roughly gripped a thin wrist, nails digging into soft skin. Hermione gasped, eyes falling closed. Pain was the only thing she could truly feel and she had grown to love it over the years. She hadn't needed it so much since she had met Harry and Ron but she needed it now.

"Here's your wand." Hermione held the bent walnut out to the dark witch, lowering her hand to the grass as Bellatrix took it. She was not afraid of the dark witch anymore. The scar she had given her would be with her forever and Hermione was glad for it. She wasn't ashamed of it but she knew other people were. Bellatrix watched as Hermione ran her fingers over the word carved into her flesh.

"You always were such a smart girl. Tell me what you hear. When you're listening behind you, what do you hear? What has you constantly looking over your shoulder?" Bellatrix dragged her teeth roughly down Hermione's neck, the girl inhaling sharply as the pain flooded her system, mixed with something unfamiliar.

"I'm listening to the screams of the dead, the growls of beasts I have no name for. The hounds of death nip at my heels, waiting until the moment they can drag me back through the gates."

"Tell me."

Hermione lied down, hair sprawling behind her as she began, "I was maybe nine. It was an accident with my magic. I made my dad crash the car, a Muggle mode of transportation. We hit a tree and the frame of the backseat collapsed. One of the jagged pieces got me through the chest. I didn't know what happened, I was just suddenly somewhere else, somewhere horrible. There were screams everywhere and I could feel things pressing closer and closer to me. I don't know how long it was before Death found me. He told me he was sorry because I would have to carry that place with me for the rest of my life and that there were things I had to do. He sent me back and I couldn't-didn't-feel anything anymore. Everything was so messed up and all I could do to feel alive was hurt. So I did and I hid it from everyone."

"You don't have to hide it anymore. I'm going to help you. But in return, you have to help me."

"Anything. Just fill the whole inside me," Hermione begged.

"For now, I need you to get better. You have to be stronger if you're going to be standing at my side."

"At your side?"

"Yes, pup. You will be the catalyst."

"Why me?"

"Because you gave me what I need to secure my hold on the world. You were instrumental in destroying Voldemort and don't think I'm unaware of the Ministry not looking for my body. What did you tell them when you noticed my body was missing? You knew I was still alive. Why did you lie for me?" Bellatrix leaned over Hermione, blocking out her view of the sky. Hermione stared into dark eyes, memorizing the swirls of black and madness.

"You gave me something, it was only fair I give you something in return. I told them I burned your body after the battle as retribution for the crimes you committed."

"What did I give you, pup?" Bellatrix leaned close, an impossible distance between them. The two witches should have been touching, looked like they were if there had been an observer. Bellatrix stared into hazel eyes, memorizing the swirls of pain and apathy and insanity, smiling wide at what she found. It would be so _easy_.

"You gave me this," Hermione said, her scarred arm displayed for the ex-Death Eater. Bellatrix's eyes gleamed with a predatory glee as her eyes traced the crudely shaped letters.

"Do you miss them? Potter and Weasley, the two martyrs of the world? They left you all alone, poor pup."

"Sometimes."

"They were fated to die."

"And the world is fated to rebuild. But the dead do not answer to fate, I do not answer to fate."

"Who do you answer to, then?"

"I answer to you. I'm sick of this world."

"Such a good pup. The world will never know what hit it. And I shall guide you down the path you so desperately wish to walk, little witch." Bellatrix dragged her fingernails down Hermione's arm, feeling the slightly raised letters she had carved only a few months ago. Red lines appeared on the brunette's arm, ornamented with droplets of crimson.

"Bellatrix, they're going to see them. They're going to take them from me."

"I won't let them," Bellatrix whispered, biting Hermione's neck, dropping Hermione's wand on the grass before Disapparating. Hermione sat near the edge of the water, fingers dancing over the red lines on her arm. She felt a trickle of blood down her neck and couldn't help the smile on her face at the sensation. She couldn't explain why she had been so eager to join the dark witch without asking questions, but she had felt something she hadn't since Harry and Ron died. She had felt _home_. Bitter laughter escaped her as she came to the realization that the two brightest witches of their ages were going to tear the world apart.

Bellatrix couldn't help the deranged smile on her face as she appeared back at her Manor. She could still taste Hermione's blood on her tongue and knowing the girl hadn't hesitated to join her made her feel victorious. She hadn't expected it to be so easy. Hermione hadn't even tried to fight her. Now she had her wand back and she had the Golden Girl to guide further into insanity. She was nearly there already but there were people keeping her from embracing it, no matter how hard Hermione fought them they dragged her back. She would take care of them in time but she could not act too soon. She knew Hermione was being monitored and she needed to devise a plan to get her where she really belonged. Laughter echoed through the dark halls of Black Manor as Bellatrix celebrated her assured victory.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Sorry for the late update. I had this chapter drafted and decided I hated pretty much all of it so I started almost completely over. It took longer than I expected but I am finally done.**

 _Imagine the magic that might be under the madness_

 _Between the mundane automatic and the silicone sadness_

 _-The Magic,_ Icon for Hire

* * *

Hermione sat, legs dangling over the edge of the rocky cliff, watching the water turn to mist below. She traced the letters of her scar before following the still healing lines Bellatrix had given her. She enjoyed feeling the scabbing on her arm, the raised marks of where metal had broken skin. Staring at the rocks below, Hermione briefly entertained the idea of letting herself fall. It wasn't that she wanted to kill herself, she was just tired of the side effects of death. It was nice to know she had a way out if she was cowardly enough to take it. She could feel the beasts behind her, waiting for her to let go, to give in. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of killing herself. It was too easy, and she didn't do anything the easy way.

There were footsteps approaching her, purposely pronounced so she would not be startled. She wouldn't have been startled, anyway, never really was. Linda and Jerry treated her as if she would break at any moment and she despised it but kept quiet. It wouldn't do her any good to confront them, it might reveal her beasts. She didn't care enough too, either. Hermoine enjoyed being left alone with nothing but her voices. They had never been particularly comforting but since Bellatrix had visited her she had been able to appreciate them more. Before, she had struggled so hard to stay ahead of them, to not let them catch her. Bellatrix showed her it wasn't the end when they caught up to you. It's the end when you let others tell you insanity is useless.

"Hermione, you should be careful. If you fall there's no way you'd survive," Linda whispered gently, sitting next to Hermione, though she stayed further from the edge. She studied the girl's more relaxed posture, even if Hermione was slightly tense at her presence. She leaned back on her hands, legs idly kicking back and forth and her face was turned to the sky. Occasionally, a rock was jarred loose and plummeted to the water below, although neither witch could hear its impact.

"I won't fall," Hermione intoned, staring at the horizon. She had kept her new marks a secret from the two soul healers, somehow. She intended to keep it that way and had adopted her new position when she heard footsteps.

Linda nodded even though Hermione wasn't looking at her, allowing silence to fall over them. Linda wished she could get more out of Hermione. The young witch always seemed lost in thought and distant. Linda understood that Hermione was still in the grieving stages but she had not seen such a severe case of despondency in all her years as a soul healer. Hermione didn't react to anything. She was utterly unfazed by everything, face remaining blank. Linda was most disturbed by Hermione's eyes. They were empty but also full of experiences no one her age should have. It was truly incredible how much of a survivor Hermione was. She couldn't imagine going through half of what Hermione endured in the past year, especially being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. Just that alone was enough to break a person irreparably.

"You're staring." It was a simple statement and Linda almost didn't hear it. Hermione's mouth had barely moved and the wind nearly tore the words away from her.

"You're looking a bit better. Weight-wise, I mean. There's still more to be done but you're making progress."

Hermione shrugged, deciding not to respond verbally. There wasn't really anything she could say. Personally, she didn't care if she gained her weight back or not but she wanted to, for Bellatrix. She didn't really understand why but she told herself it was so she could experience true insanity. That's what she yearned for, what she so desperately needed because she wasn't ready to die and that was the only way she could live. Bellatrix hadn't been to the reservoir again but Hermione still went every night around midnight, just in case. She was ready to leave, hadn't really wanted to come to the Isle, anyway. Maybe she should tell everyone she was going to search for her parents and hide out with Bellatrix until the world forgot about her. Then they would strike, ripping the world asunder to match their minds and souls.

A faint smile crossed Hermione's face but Linda didn't see. She stood moving away from the edge after peering over it one last time. Linda waited patiently, standing as Hermione turned her back to the horizon, looking calm rather than blank. It was different but she supposed it was a good change. Hermione followed Linda to the cottage, keeping pace with the soul healer but not speaking. Linda was content to walk in silence and Hermione appreciated that. The silence brought her comfort words didn't. It wasn't nearly what Bellatrix gave her but it was the next best thing. Hermione idly ran a thumb over her forearm, letting it fall back to her side. Linda placed a hand on the small of Hermione's back, allowing her to enter the cottage first. Hermione permitted the touch, having grown slightly more comfortable with her. Her muscles still tensed slightly, unaccustomed to such gestures.

"You look much better, Hermione. How are you feeling?" the familiar Scottish lilt greeted upon their entrance. Minerva had found herself missing Hermione's presence and decided to check in. It didn't surprise her when she felt the urge to see her could-be-daughter.

"Mostly the same. I like the quiet." Hermione's voice was quiet but not weak. It was still flat but there was a hint of something more.

"I suppose it's nice. It can be a bit oppressive sometimes, are you spending time with people?"

"Linda and Jerry sometimes sit with me. It's nice to have some company that isn't-" Hermione cut her sentence off, not wanting to say the words. Minerva nodded, lightly embracing the younger witch. Hermione patted the Scottish witch's shoulders a bit awkwardly, quickly stepping away. Minerva's eyes were watery and her mouth was turned down in a forlorn expression. She knew Hermione needed time to acclimate to other people again but it still hurt.

* * *

Bellatrix was in the library, books scattered across the table, a mess of pages and quills. She had done nothing but read for the past week, trying to devise a plan to get Hermione away from the people holding her back. She had grown incredibly frustrated and had taken to throwing books around in small fits of rage. Her house elf dared not disturb her except to bring food. Bellatrix fell onto a chair, rage temporarily diminished. Leaning her head against the back of the chair, trying to squash her frustration. Deep breaths were useless and she felt the lingering urge to _destroy_ running through her. Jumping from her chair, Bellatrix stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Sitting around was useless. She had always hated the waiting part of planning. She was bored and by herself and she was going to go crazier if she sat around for another moment. She was a woman of action, not meant to sit around waiting all the time. That was what she had hated about being a Death Eater. Voldemort had made her wait for fourteen long, miserable years before she had felt anything but cold and damp and hungry. It was no wonder she was crazy, she had to be in order to survive, and she was a survivor above all else.

Wandering the dilapidated building was her only option of escape. It was too early to go to the reservoir to see Hermione and she didn't have a plan to get the girl away, either. She didn't want to disappoint Hermione by telling her she had to stay, not that she understood why it mattered what the girl felt. If she even felt anything but pain. Bellatrix smiled, remembering the taste of Hermione's blood. It had been exactly like she remembered from the day she had tortured her and Bellatrix had been craving the taste since she had watched Hermione wander the grounds of Hogwarts alone. She wanted it now, too. Causing pain made her feel better, no, lighter, and she could breathe through the suffocating insanity. It was different from Hermione's insanity, hers was self-inflicted as a coping mechanism but it was just as dangerous. Hermione's was a result of trauma but it made her crave pain, something Bellatrix was all too eager to give.

Bellatrix let out an insane giggle, soon turning into her normal cackle. She could form Hermione into whatever she wanted, so long as she used pain to guide her. It wasn't just pain to the younger witch, either, it was so much more. It was something that made Bellatrix feel a feral possessiveness, more than she already felt. Hermione was hers, of course, but she was especially hers when she was inflicting pain in the girl. Hermione would never belong to another. No one else could give her what she needed, the only thing Bellatrix was capable of giving. It was strange how things worked out. Bellatrix had thought Death sent her back to help Hermione heal and then the world, but they were both too broken to be fixed. Neither of them wanted to be fixed, anyway. Being broken was so much more interesting and the world deserved to suffer. For what, Bellatrix didn't know or care, but she supposed she didn't need a logical reason. She was insane and that's all there was to it.

The garden was overgrown, vines and weeds dominated the space, making the area more jungle-like. It didn't matter to Bellatrix, she hated the garden as a child. It was more Narcissa and Andromeda's hobby. She had preferred the library or her room. Books had been the only thing that saved her from insanity in her younger years and her room had always been her safe place. It hadn't mattered that her father was a horrible man, her bedroom was a fortress of protection. She had stopped enjoying the outdoors early in her childhood but after her time in Azkaban, she had a renewed appreciation for the fresh air. That wasn't her purpose today, though. Throwing open the door to the sad excuse of a tool shed, she grabbed the first sharp thing she saw. The axe was heavy and rusted, its disuse obvious. None of that stopped the dark witch from swinging it at the large vines, hacking without skill or tact. She just needed to break, to destroy, to ruin. It was her hobby and she excelled at it. Magic would have been too easy, even though she despised doing things by hand. When she was in a mood she needed to feel things break at her touch, wanted the satisfaction at tearing it apart. Magic was too clean, too impersonal.

Sweat covered Bellatrix's body as she dropped the axe, not bothering to put it away. Her elf would take care of it. She surveyed the damage, large chunks of soft green vine littering the grounds. It was a good thing it hadn't been poisonous but Bellatrix didn't care either way. She felt better, enough to last her for a while longer. A visit to her young witch was in order soon, even if she still didn't have a stupid plan. If anything, she would just stay in her Animagus form unless they were alone. She didn't want to do that, didn't want to resort to such ridiculous tactics. It might come to that but she would prolong it as much as possible.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N** **Happy Veteran's Day!** **I actually have this chapter up at a decent time, that makes me happy. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 _I don't wanna die alone, but I don't wanna die at all_

- _All's Well That Ends_ , Rainbow Kitten Surprise

* * *

Hermione was on her back in the grass, staring up at the night sky. Her fingers traced the constellations she could remember. The grass was soft underneath her and tickled the back of her neck. It was cool despite the heat of the air and she ran the blades through her other hand. Her bare feet slid through the grass in a back and forth motion. She was restless but didn't want to get up. The ground was soft but firm under her and reminded her of her time on the run. It hadn't been the most pleasant time of her life but she had found she enjoyed the ground at her back. She lingered over Orion, tracing the constellation a few times. Orion contained the star Bellatrix was named after, the witch she was currently fascinated with. It was almost an obsession, really. Her thoughts were mostly occupied by the dark witch in some form, she always craved the possessive nearness. Bellatrix's noise quieted her own, made things more bearable. As if summoned by her thoughts, Bellatrix appeared by the reservoir with a _crack_ , looking around before her eyes settled on Hermione's form. A wicked smile appeared on her face as she observed the younger witch quietly. Hermione let her arm fall to the ground next to her, craning her neck to see the ex-Death Eater.

"Is it time?" she asked, trace amounts of hope lacing her words.

"Soon. There's some business we have to take care of first."

"What is it?"

"The entire Wizarding World is wondering what happened. I want you to tell them." Hermione blinked at Bellatrix, mouth set in a tight line. "Don't give me that face, pup."

"Why can't I just tell you?"

"Because I want the world to know that you are _mine_. Not to worry, I'll be with you the whole time." Bellatrix crouched, gripping Hermione's chin tightly. Her nails made half-moons on the young witch's flesh. It was a move of dominance, but she also needed to cause pain in that moment. Hermione understood better than anyone else, welcomed the pain.

"No. It isn't for them to know." Defiance glittered in Hermione's eyes alongside darkness. She didn't want the world to find out Bellatrix was still alive, was planning to overthrow the Ministry. She would be taken away and Hermione would once again be left to drift in a vast sea of nothingness, craving life but searching for death. She wouldn't go back to that.

"You will tell them what they wish to know," Bellatrix hissed, nails digging harder into Hermione's chin. Her dark eyes were filled with anger and her lip was curled in a snarl.

"They'll take you away if they find out you're still here," Hermione gasped. She wouldn't back down from this, not when it meant her life, too. Just like with Harry and Ron, she had one, and this time, she wouldn't let go so easily. She could feel blood welling where Bellatrix's nails were piercing her chin but she didn't move to wipe it away.

"What are you so afraid of?" Bellatrix asked, eyes searching Hermione's. Her voice was oddly soft and it gave both of them pause. Hermione's hazel eyes swirled with pain, not the good kind, not the kind Bellatrix gave. It was the kind of pain that rotted someone from the inside, that ate away any sense of being. It was the pain that drove Hermione to search for death when she desperately wanted to live. The pain Bellatrix drove away, as Harry and Ron had done before they died. Bellatrix's grip loosened on Hermione's chin as she recognized the pain of being utterly alone, having no one to catch you as you spiraled nearer to Death even as you reached for Life's hands. She had felt it in Azkaban, retreated into insanity to escape the clutches of Death. They both had settled on the edge of a cliff, sheer and high, torn between the siren song of Death and the lullaby of Life. No matter how hard they struggled to reach the embrace of Life, a force drove them away, toward the bottom of the cliff. They were both afraid one day it would be too much and they would let the force carry them away.

"Hermione, I won't let it happen. I'll be the raven perched on your shoulder as you answer their questions," Bellatrix whispered. Her nails were fully removed from Hermione's skin and her hand was resting on her cheek. She had adopted a kneeling position next to the young witch's shoulder, leaning slightly as she looked into Hermione's eyes.

"You used my name."

"Don't get used to it."

"I like it."

"When do you return?" Bellatrix asked, evading the topic. She couldn't explain why she had used Hermione's name, didn't want to think about it too much.

"When I'm better." Hermione wanted to hear her name fall from Bellatrix's lips again, marveled at the effect it had. An immediate calm had settled over her and the noise had stopped the moment Bellatrix said it.

"Let's get you better, then."

"You're staying?" Hermione's tone once again had traces of hope.

"Yes. I can help you more than those soul healers can. They don't understand you like I do." Bellatrix ran her thumb over the nail marks on Hermione's chin. It would have been a loving gesture, had it not been born of a more possessive nature. To Hermione, it was the equivalent. Bellatrix showed emotion differently than other people. She was more vicious in her affections. Hermione recognized it all the same. She belonged to Bellatrix, was reassured of this through bruises, scratches, bite marks. It was exactly what they both needed to embrace their insanity.

* * *

Minerva sat in her office, head cradled in her hands. Predawn light shone through the window, illuminating the room in faint streaks. She stared blankly at the desk, at the papers in an organized scatter across it. The repairs to the school were progressing faster than she anticipated and she had been trying to find teachers. Most of the previous ones had returned and she had filled all but one of the empty positions. She also had to appoint a new head of Gryffindor house seeing as she was now permanent Headmistress and could not preside over a house. She wanted to wait until the teaching staff was fully assembled before deciding. It was harder than she thought to fill a position everyone thought cursed. Nearby, the portrait of Albus Dumbledore observed his long-time friend. He placed a jelly bean in his mouth, chewing satisfactorily at the not unpleasant flavor.

"I don't know how you did it, Albus. No one wants to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I can't just get rid of the course, it's necessary for the students to learn. You filled it every year without fail and I can't even find one person," Minerva lamented, looking to the portrait of her predecessor.

Albus chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "There is always someone, Minerva. You are not asking the right person."

"Well, it would be a lot easier if I knew who the 'right person' was!" Irritation seeped into her tone. She had been struggling to find the last teacher before the repairs were finished and had, so far, come up empty.

"Nonsense, Minerva. You know exactly who she is. You've been debating it for several days now." Albus pulled another jelly bean out of the box, putting it in his mouth and promptly spitting it out. He mumbled something Minerva didn't hear, but she wasn't paying attention to his jelly bean habits.

"I just don't know if she's ready. You should've seen her, Albus. It was heartbreaking."

"I think she's more ready than you realize. You can at least ask her. If she declines, try someone else. Give her a chance, it might be the thing she needs to make the final push to wellness."

"I can't imagine it would be such a thing. That position has been no good for every professor that had it. Maybe I _should_ do away with it." Minerva leaned back in her chair, eyes settling on Albus. He could see the concern swimming in the bright green eyes.

"It is a new age, Minerva. There have been a great many changes in the past year alone. Voldemort and his Death Eaters have been defeated. If anyone can handle it, Hermione can."

"I just don't know, Albus. She's been through so much, I don't want to push her to the breaking point."

"Hermione is not as fragile as you think. You know this, deep down. She is stronger than all of us, I think. I cannot make the decision for you, but I can advise you to at least extend the offer. Everyone knows she is qualified to teach the class even without her N.E.W.T.s." At these times, Albus wished he were still alive so he could better comfort his friend. Words could only help so much. He watched as Minerva nodded slowly, resigned to her option. There were people that would fill the position if Hermione didn't, but he knew it had to be her. He didn't know why, never really did, but he trusted his instincts. Hermione belonged at Hogwarts, always had.

"I hope you're right," she sighed, standing and turning on her heel.

"Me too, Minerva. Me too," he whispered to the empty room.

Minerva appeared on the porch of her island home with a _crack_. She wasn't positive Hermione would be awake and wanted to respect her boundaries. She knew the young witch needed space and didn't want to intrude, especially if she was still asleep. She knocked on the door soundly, loud enough to wake Hermione if she was asleep but not so loud as to be obnoxious if she wasn't. Minerva stood at the door, waiting for it to open. With every moment it stayed closed, she felt a growing sense of worry. She raised her hand to knock again, halting the motion when she heard footsteps approaching. Turning, she found Hermione standing at the base of porch steps, grass in her sleep-tousled hair and faint smudges of dirt on her face and clothes. A large black raven was perched on her shoulder, talons poking holes in the fabric of Hermione's shirt but not breaking the skin. There were faint marks on Hermione's chin that Minerva presumed were from the bird.

"Minerva, what are you doing here?" Hermione asked, staring at her mentor. Bellatrix was perched on her shoulder, having shifted when they noticed a figure standing on the porch.

"I came to talk. Where did you get that bird?"

"I found her on my walk. Her wing was injured and she fought me a little but I managed to calm her enough to do some healing," Hermione lied, looking steadily at Minerva.

"That's wonderful, Hermione. Are you going to keep her?"

"Only if she stays. I hope she does, it would be nice to have a companion again. Crookshanks has been missing for a while and it might help me if I have something to care for." Hermione ascended the steps, standing next to the Headmistress. She opened the door, gesturing for Minerva to enter first. They sat at the kitchen table, light filtering through the window and reflecting off the dust motes in the air.

"Do you have a name for her?"

"I was thinking Polaris," Hermione said after a moment. Bellatrix nodded approvingly, moving from Hermione's shoulder to the table.

"That's a wonderful name."

"Would you like anything?"

"No, thank you, Hermione." Minerva smiled gently at Hermione. She was surprised when Hermione gave a small, unsure smile back. There were subtle changes in Hermione, indicative of recovery and Minerva felt more comfortable offering her the DADA position.

"What did you want to talk about?"

Minerva hesitated, struggling to form the words she wanted to say. "I know you value your education and want to take your exams, but I would like to offer you the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and Head of House for the Gryffindors."

"Me? For the upcoming school year? I can't possibly be an option, I haven't taken my N.E.W.T.s." Hermione was stunned, even Bellatrix was looking at Minerva in surprise.

"You, for the upcoming school year. I doubt anyone would object to your lack of exams, you are uniquely qualified to teach the course." It went without saying that Hermione's part in the war and status as a hero would override any need for exams. Kingsley had already offered her a place in the Ministry. Bellatrix perched on Hermione's shoulder again, mind spinning with ideas. The action drew Hermione's attention and Bellatrix nodded subtly but forcefully. She knew it was something Hermione wanted to do, but it would also be a benefit to the plan she didn't have yet. Besides, it would be entertaining to torment the students of Hogwarts again.

"Okay. I'll do it."

Minerva hid her surprise. She had expected Hermione to protest or, at the very least, take a few days to think about it. How well did she really know Hermione anymore? "Excellent. There's just the matter of paperwork, but that can wait. I'll speak to Kingsley and let him know, but do you want it to be public knowledge as well?"

"Not yet. If possible, I'd like to keep it secret until I return, at least. I'd still like to have some quiet."

"Of course, Hermione. I must be going now to oversee repairs but I'll bring the paperwork over in a few days." Minerva stood, placing a hand on the shoulder Bellatrix wasn't occupying.

As she removed her hand and made to Apparate, Hermione whispered, "Minerva. Thank you."

"Of course. You are like a daughter to me, Hermione." Minerva smiled, turning on her heel.

Hermione sat at the table, staring out the window. Her chin was in her hand, fingers tracing the nail marks Bellatrix left. Bellatrix hopped off her shoulder and stood behind her, hands digging into Hermione's shoulders. Her dark eyes gleamed with excitement and she felt energy running through her. Hermione's eyes were unfocused she looked without seeing.

"Bellatrix, do you remember what you said to me that day?" Her free hand traced the scar on her arm over the fabric of her sleeve, the shape and form memorized.

"I said a lot of things that day."

"How did you know?"

"Because you fought so hard. I didn't see that you were already just like me," Bellatrix violently whispered in Hermione's ear, digging her nails into the young witch's skin.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N So sorry for the late update. The weekend snuck up on me before I had a chance to write this chapter but I got it done and I will definitely have the next chapter up on Saturday for you guys.**

Hermione braced her hands on her knees, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her forearm. Her breaths came in fast pants and the long grass tickled her legs in the wind. Her hair was pulled up into a messy ponytail, some strands falling loose. the breeze cooled the back of her neck and her muscles screamed in protest. She looked at Bellatrix, waiting for further instructions. Bellatrix stood with her hands on her hips, a slight frown on her face. The moonlight cast silver shadows on her face, making her expression look more severe. The wind pulled at her hair, but she paid it no mind.

"That's enough for tonight," she said, tucking her wand into her sleeve.

"I can go again," Hermione protested, standing up straight.

"I don't care if you can, I said it's enough." Bellatrix took a step toward Hermione, standing directly in front of her. Hermione tilted her head up slightly, chin sticking out defiantly.

"Can't keep up?" she taunted.

"You know very well I can go for longer," she growled, whipping out her wand and pressing it against Hermione's chin. Hermione let the wooden tip dig into her skin, staring into Bellatrix's eyes.

"Prove it," Hermione whispered.

Bellatrix gripped Hermione's arm, yanking her closer and leaning to whisper in her ear, "I don't need to. We're done for tonight."

"I want to go again."

"No."

"I'm not going to break, Bellatrix. I can do it."

"I know you can."

"Then let me."

"No. You've done enough for tonight. Baby steps to get better."

"Fine," Hermione acquiesced, yanking her arm from Bellatrix's grip. Her muscles were stiff from the training Bellatrix had put her through and Bellatrix's grip was tight, but she managed. It had been tough but she had refused to give up or ask for a break. Bellatrix hadn't gone easy on her but she had managed and her dueling skills had improved tremendously, both from war experience and training with Bellatrix. She wanted to do more, to push herself even further, but she knew Bellatrix was right.

Bellatrix allowed Hermione to lead the way back to the cottage. She could see the frustration in the tense line of Hermione's shoulders and the slight clenching of her fists. She understood the drive Hermione had, the desire to be the best and the need to prove herself. She had felt the same under Voldemort after Azkaban. Now, she didn't have anything to prove to anyone. She didn't care what the world thought of her, besides, it was better than being dead.

"You don't have to prove yourself to me. I already know what you're capable of, you don't need to try so hard," Bellatrix said. Hermione turned, slowing her walk as she looked at Bellatrix.

"What makes you think it's for you?"

"I'm the only one that matters to you. You don't care about anyone else, anything else. You can't hide anything from me."

"That's a bit narcissistic, Bellatrix," Hermione said with a slight smile.

"That's my sister's specialty. I call it like I see it, and you are transparent to me."

"Is that so?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Maybe. But I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for me." Hermione turned away and continued walking, Bellatrix behind her with a smirk on her face. If Hermione was doing something for herself that meant she was getting better. She looked healthier, acted healthier most of the time, and was showing a wider range of emotions. They weren't necessarily good emotions but that didn't matter. Bellatrix wouldn't be able to use them the same way. Hermione entered the cottage, toeing off her shoes and leaving them beside the door. She made her way to the bath, making sure the water was hot before she got in. Bellatrix lingered on the porch, looking up at the stars. She picked out the constellation with her youngest sister's namesake, glaring at it before entering the house, closing the door with a little more force than necessary. She threw herself onto the couch in the living room, waving her wand to start a fire and staring into the flames. She was torn between forgiving her sister and continuing to be angry. Betraying Voldemort wasn't the problem anymore, Narcissa had betrayed her to save her son. She should have been willing to sacrifice Draco for the war. Her sister had shown weakness and she could not have weakness on her side.

Hermione laid her head on the edge of the tub, the tips on her hair in the water. Steam rose from the surface and the heat relaxed her muscles and made her sleepy. Her arms were stretched out, resting on the sides and her toes poked out of the water. Her eyelids were heavy and she could feel them closing. She pulled herself out of the tub, grabbing a towel and drying off. Hermione discarded the towel in favor of pajamas, exiting the bathroom to find Bellatrix facing the fire. The flickering light made the planes of her face harsh and her eyes dark. Hermione sat next to Bellatrix, watching the dark witch watch the fire. She tucked her legs under herself, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"Are you ready to go back?" Bellatrix asked, lips barely moving and still staring into the fire. Hermione shrugged, unsure of how to answer.

"I'm ready to do what needs to be done."

"You're ready to tell the world what happened during the war?"

"Do you promise you'll be there?"

"Yes."

"Then yes." Hermione turned to stare at the fire, the dancing flames and warmth lulling her to sleep. Bellatrix cast a quick glance at the young witch, taking note of the exhaustion lacing her. She could only guess how little Hermione had slept before she got there. She knew Hermione would have been at their meeting place every night, for a few hours at least. With Bellatrix there, Hermione had slept decently, partly because they had been training a few nights a week. Hermione had asked for Bellatrix to train her and she complied because Hermione would need to be proficient with dueling as her Lieutenant.

The next morning, Hermione was awoken by a knock on the cottage door. She blinked sleepily, rubbing her eyes and casting a glance around the room. Bellatrix was nowhere to be seen. Hermione sat up on the couch, groaning as her muscles protested the movement. She grabbed the blanket that had been draped over her and wrapped it around her shoulders. She padded to the door, opening it and blinking as a ray of sunlight fell directly on her face.

"Good morning, Hermione. How are you doing?" the deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted. Hermione made out a smaller figure next to him, assuming it was Minerva.

"I'm fine. Come in," she said, stepping to the side as they entered. She closed the door firmly behind them, following them to the living room. Minerva and Kingsley sat on the couch and Hermione chose the armchair, draping her legs over one arm. She looked at the witch and wizard, stifling yawns.

"Sorry to wake you, Hermione," Minerva said.

"It's okay. Do you need something?"

"We came to discuss you coming back. People have been wondering where you've been and what happened during the war. If you aren't ready to speak to anyone yet, we'll do our best to keep your return quiet," Kingsley said, placing a foot on his knee and folding his hands on top.

"It's fine. I know everyone wants to know what happened. I don't mind telling them, so long as Polaris can be there, too," Hermione said, catching herself before she said Bellatrix's name.

"Polaris?"

"Hermione's raven. She found it and it took a shine to her," Minerva explained.

"I see. Well, that won't be a problem. And I heard you accepted the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

"I did, yes."

"I must say, I'm a little disappointed you didn't want to work at the Ministry, but Hogwarts will be a good place for you."

"I do still hope to work at the Ministry, someday, but Hogwarts is the place for me right now."

"I understand and when you are ready you'll have a place in whatever department you want."

"Thank you, Kingsley. I'll be sure to give it some thought."

"Excellent. Now, when would you like to come back?"

"I'm not sure. How long until the repairs are done?"

"The school is at the point where it is fully habitable. There are still repairs that need to be done but they don't need to be finished for classes to start. We are waiting two more weeks, just so we can get a little more done," Minerva said.

"I'll come back today but I'd like to have some time before I speak to anyone about what happened. I just want to get used to being around other people."

"That sounds fine, Hermione."

"I'll go pack my stuff." Hermione rose from her chair, the blanket hanging from her shoulders as she walked to the bedroom. She entered the room to find Bellatrix sprawled on the bed, still in her clothes from yesterday. She grabbed her wand from the nightstand, giving it a wave to gather her stuff.

"Bellatrix, wake up. We're leaving. Kingsley and Minerva are here, so be quiet and shift," Hermione whispered, nudging Bellatrix to wake her. She opened one eye, glaring at Hermione for waking her. Hermione quickly changed into clothes, sticking her shrunken belongings in her jeans pocket. Bellatrix huffed, shifting into her animagus form and perching on Hermione's shoulder. She dug her talons into Hermione's shoulder a little too hard, earning a pained hiss from the young witch. Hermione ignored the irate bird, earning a sharp peck on her ear.

"Fine, I'm sorry for waking you up, happy?" she hissed. Bellatrix cawed but didn't loosen her grip on Hermione's shoulder. She exited the bedroom, tucking her wand into her pocket and grabbing Bellatrix's from the dresser. She twirled the wand in her hand, standing in front of Minerva and Kingsley.

"Are we ready?" Kingsley asked, receiving nods from both witches. He stood, along with Minerva and held out his arm for the two to take. When they each had a hand firmly on his forearm, he Apparated them to the grounds of Hogwarts. It was early enough that most of the people helping with repairs hadn't arrived yet. There were some people milling about, mostly ones that were staying at the school, but there were a few that weren't. A few of them cast curious glances their way but kept their distance from the three.

"Thank you, Kingsley. If you'll excuse us, Hermione and I have some paperwork to tend to," Minerva said, nodding to Kingsley. He nodded back, turning on his heel and Apparating to the Ministry. Hermione looked at Minerva, waiting for her to lead the way to her office. Minerva considered her for a moment, eyes resting disapprovingly on the wand Hermione insisted upon using. Hermione glanced at the treeline of the Forbidden Forest, remembering the night she had almost walked into it.

"Do you need my help with repairs?" Hermione asked, tearing her attention from the treeline.

"It's not necessary but you can help if you want. Would you like the same room you had before?"

"Please. I like the smaller space."

"Of course. Are you ready to sign your contract?"

"Yes," Hermione said, following Minerva to her office. Several people stared at her as she passed but she paid them no mind. Bellatrix, on the other hand, puffed out her feathers and spread her wings, trying to make herself bigger to intimidate people. Hermione smiled slightly at Bellatrix's way of showing she cared, chuckling quietly. Minerva was briefly shocked at the quiet sound she heard from Hermione, not used to the sound. She allowed Hermione to enter her office first, the young witch standing in the center of the room.

"Sit down, Hermione, please. I'm not sure how long I can keep the reporters away but I'll do my best."

"That's okay, Minerva. I'd like to answer all the questions at once. I'm sure there's a lot." Hermione sat across from Minerva, looking at the parchment in front of her. She flipped through it quickly, skimming the details. She wasn't concerned with the pay, or minor details, focusing mainly on her responsibilities. They were about what she expected and she grabbed a quill, signing her name on the bottom of the last page.

"When would you like to do it? I can have Kingsley organize it. Maybe that will keep them from bothering you here."

"Next week. Should I announce my position as a professor?"

"If you wish, Hermione."

Hermione felt talons dig slightly into her shoulder, taking the response as a yes. "I think I'll spend today refamiliarizing myself with the grounds. Is that okay?"

"Of course, Hermione. Find me if you need anything," Minerva said as Hermione stood. She left the office, Bellatrix perched on her shoulder. She planned to wander around the castle to find secluded areas to spend time when she needed to be alone. Alone with Bellatrix.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N My deepest apologies. I know I said I would have this posted on Saturday but I got a little caught up in my Dungeons and Dragons game. More than a little, really, but here's the next chapter.**

"We cannot be more sensitive to pleasure without being more sensitive to pain."

-Alan Watts

* * *

Bellatrix was frustrated by Hermione's small chambers, pacing the length of the room repeatedly. It had been a difficult week for her, only able to leave the room in her Animagus form. She was growing restless with the lack of space for her to walk. Hermione watched from the bed, back against the wall and legs extended in front of her. Her eyes followed the dark witch tirelessly, a book forgotten on her lap. She would be addressing the world today, telling them everything that had happened during her year on the run. She supposed she was ready to do what had to be done, even if she didn't want to. The relative silence was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door, causing Bellatrix to shift and Hermione to swing her legs off the bed to open the door.

"Is it time?" she asked, Bellatrix perching on her shoulder.

"Yes. Are you sure you're ready to do this?" Minerva asked, her brows creased in worry and concern. Her mouth was a tight line, not disapproving, just worried for the young witch. Hermione just nodded, edging past the Headmistress. She strode confidently through the halls of the school, footsteps echoing through the mostly empty corridors. The majority of people had already amassed in the great hall to wait for Hermione. She took a deep breath as she entered, Bellatrix's presence on her shoulder easing her. She ignored the stares and whispers, eyes not leaving the chair she was headed to. She sat, staring out at the people in front of her, face blank. Bellatrix's grip on her shoulder tightened subtly, reminding Hermione she was there.

"Thank you all for coming. I know you all have questions about what happened last year while Harry, Ron, and I were run. I'm here to answer them," she spoke flatly, her voice carrying across the room. She didn't speak quietly, but she didn't speak loudly either. Kingsley had briefed the press after the final battle, sharing what he knew, but Hermione was the one everyone wanted to hear from.

"Ms. Granger, why has it taken so long for you to come forward to answer questions?" a reporter asked, quill at the ready.

"I took the time to grieve the loss of many close friends. The war was not something I wanted to talk about."

"How did you break into Gringotts? More specifically, how did you manage to break into Bellatrix Lestrange's vault and what did you need from inside of it?"

Hermione stiffened slightly, Bellatrix's talons digging into her shoulder at the use of her husband's last name. "I disguised myself using a Polyjuice Potion because we had reason to believe she was harboring one of Voldemort's Horcruxes in her vault."

"A Polyjuice Potion requires something from the person you are attempting to look like. How did you manage to do that?"

"It wasn't that difficult, considering Snatchers caught us and took us to Malfoy Manor where she was staying. That's how I got the idea to check her vault."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hermione faltered, unnoticed by everyone except Bellatrix. "We had the Sword of Gryffindor with us, which was supposed to be in her vault. It was, but she had the fake one in her vault, we had the real one. She thought we stole it from her and she was less than happy with us. She questioned me about it, although, I was a little preoccupied during that time and I didn't think about it until after we escaped."

"Bellatrix Lestrange is a highly unstable witch, you expect us to believe she questioned you in a calm and logical manner?"

"I never said she did such a thing. There's a reason I was preoccupied," Hermione snapped, taking a deep breath to calm herself. She was sure she was bleeding from how tightly Bellatrix was gripping her shoulder, but the dark witch managed to restrain herself from attacking the person that had asked the question.

"Preoccupied with what, exactly?"

"Screaming, mostly."

"Screaming?"

"Yes, well, that's typically what one does when they're being Crucioed," Hermione said casually, turning her head slightly to Bellatrix. The room was quiet for a moment, staring open-mouthed at Hermione. The offhandedness of the statement caught them off guard but some of them recovered quickly.

"She Crucioed you?"

"Among other things," Hermione murmured, earning a quiet caw from Bellatrix, "While I was in the Manor some of her hair got onto my clothes when she was carving the word 'Mudblood' into my arm and I managed to get her wand as we escaped. We were saved by a house elf. He was killed by a knife thrown in our direction as he Apparated us out of the Manor." Hermione's expression didn't change the entire time she spoke, but she could feel the adrenaline rushing through her system at the memory.

"While you were on the run with Harry and Ron did anything between you and either one of them happen?"

"Not that it's relevant, but no, nothing happened between any of us. We managed to find and destroy the Horcruxes and Harry managed to kill Voldemort. The war is over and it's time for us to move on. To rebuild." Hermione's face didn't betray her annoyance at the question. She had expected it, hadn't even been surprised it came from Rita Skeeter.

"What will you be doing now that the war is over?"

"I have accepted the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, starting this school year." Murmurs rose throughout the room, most of them excited.

"Are you qualified for the position?" Rita Skeeter asked.

"Headmistress McGonagall and Minister Shacklebolt have both given me the approval to teach the position because of my experience from the war. Though, if you doubt my ability, Ms. Skeeter, you are always welcome to test them," Hermione said, restraining her annoyance at the horrible witch. Bellatrix approved, puffing her feathers and spreading her wings at the reporter's question.

"Ms. Granger, you've long made it known that you want to work in the Ministry, why choose to teach, instead?"

"For the time being, Hogwarts is where I belong."

"How does it feel to be so young and teaching a class as intimidating as Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"It will be a welcome challenge. Are there any more questions?"

"What about the curse?"

"What about it?"

"Aren't you worried?"

Hermione laughed a bit, shaking her head, "No. I'm not." She stood, leaving the gathered witches and wizards to stare after her. She made her way out onto the grounds. She looked up at the castle, squinting her eyes against the sunlight. The profile was nearly as it had been, some portions of it different or still not finished.

"I think that went well, don't you?" she whispered, turning to Bellatrix. Her head bobbed up and down, wings fluttering restlessly. Hermione heaved a sigh, waving her hand in a shooing motion. Hermione hissed as Bellatrix released her shoulder, feeling the talons withdraw from her skin. Bellatrix took to the air, flying lazy circles over Hermione. Hermione craned her neck to see her shoulder, faint dots of blood pooling on her shirt. She ignored it, stretching her shoulder and watching Bellatrix fly.

"Hermione?"

"Hello, Neville. How are you?" Hermione said, eyes glued to the sky.

"I'm well. How," Neville cleared his throat, "How are you?"

Hermione shrugged, eyes falling on Neville, "It's been interesting."

"That's for sure. I'm glad you're back but I don't suppose you'd be helping me with homework now that you're a professor."

"I am the head of Gryffindor house so I can guide you if you need it." Bellatrix landed on Hermione's shoulder, eyeing Neville with puffed feathers.

"I'm happy for you, Hermione. Is that your bird?"

"Oh, yeah. Her name is Polaris." Hermione stroked Bellatrix's head in an attempt to calm her.

"She's beautiful. Wonderful name, too. Where did you get her?" Bellatrix's feathers puffed with pride at the compliment, earning a smile from Hermione.

"I found her, actually. She had an injured wing and I fixed her up. She nearly pecked me to death, though."

"Sometimes to take care of ourselves we need something to take care of. It's nice to have you back, Hermione," he said, placing a hand on her unoccupied shoulder.

"It's nice to be back. Take care, Neville."

"You too." He turned with a wave, his figure growing smaller as he approached the castle. Bellatrix took to the sky again, flying back toward the castle. Hermione stayed where she was, keeping an eye on the dark witch. She didn't want to run into anyone else. Neville had been a nice surprise but not entirely welcome. She had missed him, sure, but she just wanted some time alone.

Bellatrix soared high in the air, the wind brushing through her feathers. The ground was far below her and she could just make out the lone form of Hermione. She had handled the press conference to her satisfaction and hadn't let any of their questions phase her. She made the right choice in choosing Hermione to assist her, even though she already knew that. Today had confirmed that Hermione was hers to guide. Now, Bellatrix had access to Minerva and Kingsley, the latter more indirectly, but still. She would rather have Hermione at Hogwarts for the time being, the young witch wouldn't be so closely monitored and she could have her fun by tormenting the students. It almost made up for the fact that she had to be in her Animagus form whenever they were out of Hermione's chambers or had company. It was manageable, though. Besides, it's not like she really had a plan, anyway. She would come up with something.

Hermione watched as Bellatrix slowly arced back toward her, becoming a larger speck against the blue sky. She held out her arm as she approached, steadying it as Bellatrix landed on it. Her talons scratched against Hermione's skin, leaving faint lines through the word carved on her arm. Hermione began walking back to the castle that served as a school. The halls were busier now, with people working on restoring the last portions of Hogwarts before school started. Hermione ignored the stares as she always did and Bellatrix held her wings out for balance on Hermione's small forearm. Hermione made her way to her room, weaving through the corridors and people. She wasn't sure how she would do once the halls were filled with students and faculty. It felt strange just sitting in the great hall with the relatively small number of people that were there. Bellatrix gave Hermione's shoulder a sharp peck, sensing the spiraling thoughts from Hermione's body language. It brought her back to reality sharply and Hermione smiled gratefully. She twirled Bellatrix's wand in her fingers, entering her room and lowering her arm as Bellatrix hopped off, shifting into her normal form as Hermione secured the door behind them.

"Great job today," she said, backing Hermione against the door and grazing Hermione's neck with her teeth. She was craving the metallic taste of Hermione's blood, sweet on her tongue like no other's had been before.

"I couldn't have done it without you. Wouldn't have," Hermione gasped, tilting her head to the side slightly. Bellatrix smirked, her teeth brushing over Hermione's pulse point. As she needed to inflict pain, Hermione needed to suffer from it. She bit down, breaking the skin and collecting the blood with her tongue. Hermione's nails dug into the wood of the door, breaths coming fast. She could feel the distance between her and Bellatrix, yearned to close it but refrained from doing so. Bellatrix ran her tongue over the trail of blood on Hermione's neck once more, the iron taste mixing with a hint of salt. She stepped back, tongue flicking over her lips. Hermione's pupils were huge and she grinned wolfishly, placing one hand on Hermione's cheek. Her eyes focused on the dark witch's lips, still slightly stained with her blood.

"You never do disappoint, do you?" the dark witch whispered, leaning tantalizingly close to Hermione.

"I wouldn't be a very good Lieutenant if I did."

"I suppose not. That's not exactly what I was referring to, though," Bellatrix said, moving her head so it was next to Hermione's.

"You of all people should know I could never reject it."

"There are those that say what you have and still run. You never do. You need it like you need air. It gives you life," Bellatrix whispered harshly lips brushing against Hermione's ear.

"You give me life." Bellatrix chuckled, letting her nails dig into Hermione's cheek. She would heal it later, as she always did with the visible wounds.

"Let us hope I am the only one to do so."

"You are."

"Prove it," Bellatrix growled, possessiveness washing over her, "Prove that you belong to me and no one else." Hermione sank slowly to her knees as she had every time Bellatrix asked her to prove her loyalty. She had never hesitated and she wouldn't this time. Bellatrix gripped her chin tightly, forcing her head up, nails making half-moons in Hermione's skin.

"By my blood, I swear to you, Bellatrix Black, to never falter in my service to you and your cause. I pledge myself to you and only you so long as I breathe. I am yours to claim as you see fit. No matter the cost I stand by you," Hermione whispered, eyes not leaving Bellatrix's. They were dark and swirling with the violent possessiveness Hermione had come to love. Her heart hammered in her chest and she wondered if Bellatrix could feel it. She waited in anticipation for Bellatrix to respond, the cold cement barely registering in her mind.

"Stand." The command was hissed, and Hermione obeyed, eyes not leaving the burning darkness. Bellatrix held out her hand, closing her fingers around familiar walnut when Hermione placed it there. She backed Hermione to the door, one hand gripping her shirt collar, the other pressing her wand into Hermione's ribs. She knew what was coming, was ready for Bellatrix to utter the word. Her entire body anticipated the curse, waiting for the dark witch to cast it. Bellatrix leaned closer to Hermione, the tip of her wand digging into Hermione painfully.

"Crucio," she whispered, lips brushing against Hermione's cheek softly. It barely registered in Hermione's mind as the sensation of every nerve ending in her body being on fire overtook her. She did not scream, but her knees buckled, Bellatrix's grip the only thing keeping her upright. Hermione was no stranger to this spell, having endured it at Malfoy Manor and every once in a while since Bellatrix had claimed her. A gasp left her lips as a particularly strong wave of pain washed over her and she pressed her head into the door. She could vaguely feel her entire body shaking with pain, but mostly, she felt the tip of Bellatrix's wand against her ribs, the hand gripping her shirt collar, and the lips still barely touching her cheek. Bellatrix grinned, eyes alight at the pain surging through Hermione's body. She released the spell, murmuring in the young witch's ear as her eyes opened and steadily focused. The aftershocks of the spell still had her muscles quivering and Hermione struggled to catch her breath. It got better every time. She was more aware of what was around her with every passing second and the haze in her mind cleared.

"Satisfied?" Hermione croaked, her own eyes nearly black. She relied heavily on Bellatrix to stay upright, tremors wracking her body less frequently.

"For now," Bellatrix whispered, tongue flicking out to taste Hermione's skin. The salt lingered on her tongue, crying out for another taste. She obliged her desire, tongue tracing Hermione's jawline greedily. The young witch's breath caught, heart stuttering in her chest. Bellatrix smirked, pulling Hermione away from the door and into a somewhat standing position. Hermione's legs threatened to give out, the effort to stand taxing even with Bellatrix's help. Her head lay on the dark witch's shoulder, arms dangling at her side. Her entire body felt rubbery and she struggled to remain standing. She missed the words Bellatrix had said, the haze in her mind returning.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she murmured, words muffled by Bellatrix's shoulder.

"You have been claimed. Rest, that was stronger than usual."

Hermione nodded weakly, unable to move away from Bellatrix's support. She tried, willing her limbs to cooperate but they were unresponsive. Bellatrix grew impatient waiting for Hermione to move. She scooped the young witch up, depositing her onto the bed and setting a glass of water on the nightstand. Hermione was already asleep, her muscles still twitching sporadically. Bellatrix watched her, an unfamiliar feeling rising in her chest. She didn't know what it was so she ignored it, turning away from Hermione and busying herself with other things.


	8. Chapter 8

"Only the dead have seen the end of war."

-Plato

* * *

Hermione stood on the edge of a cliff. The sky was covered in grey clouds and the only light was from an occasional strike of lightning. It wasn't raining, but the wind pulled at her hair and clothes. She could barely stand with the force of it. At the base of a cliff, black water raged and she could see faint shapes at the bottom. Rocks. Hermione felt the wind whipping around her. She nearly lost her balance, teetering on the edge. Her heart pounded in her chest, beating a fierce staccato against her rib cage. She sucked in a breath, the wind almost forcing it out of her. Lightning struck somewhere nearby, illuminating the world for a split second. Crashing came from behind her and she turned, eyes scanning the treeline. Another flash of lightning and she saw it. It was a huge creature, with a gaping maw filled with rows of teeth. Its eyes glittered menacingly and it took a step toward her, the ground shaking slightly. Its back had long, curving spines. Hermione stood her ground, watching the creature approach. She felt no fear of the beast, she knew its name. The creature came to a stop in front of her predatorily. It broke the pause, pouncing at her and sending them both over the precipice. They plummeted to the dark water below, the rocks waiting at the bottom.

"Bellatrix," she gasped, jolting awake, "I had the dream again."

"Tell me." Bellatrix observed the rise and fall of Hermione's chest, the faint shimmer of her skin in the low light, the way her fists bunched into the blanket.

"It's always the same. I'm standing on the cliff and then there's the creature and it jumps on me and we fall. I always wake up before we hit the bottom." Hermione reached for the glass on her nightstand, sipping her water.

"It could mean lots of things. It could mean nothing." Bellatrix stood, beginning to pace the room. A small ball of light hovered in the center of the room, casting deep shadows on their faces.

"The beast is you."

"So you've said. How do you know that, anyway?"

"Because it's different from what usually chases me."

"I do not chase you."

"That's my point."

"What time is it?"

"Since when do you care?" Hermione's eyes followed Bellatrix's movements, coming to an abrupt stop.

"Maybe I don't."

"Then why did you ask?"

"I'm bored."

"Go for a fly. Or walk through the Forbidden Forest."

"Come with me."

"The students arrive tomorrow."

"So?"

"So, I need rest."

"You're such a liar."

"Fine. We'll go for a walk." Hermione swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sliding her feet into her slippers. She transfigured her attire into something more appropriate for a midnight stroll, holding her arm out for Bellatrix. Bellatrix shifted into her animagus form, perching on the young witch's shoulder.

The Forbidden Forest was dark, twisted gray trees reflecting the faint light of the crescent moon. It provided enough shadow that Bellatrix could walk freely without worrying someone would see her. She was next to Hermione, maintaining a respectable distance from the young witch. The young witch walked alongside Bellatrix, allowing the dark witch to lead by a small margin. She stayed silent, leaving Bellatrix to her thoughts. She was content to wander through the trees, silvery moonlight barely illuminating the figure in front of her. Bellatrix was hauntingly beautiful, Hermione had always thought so, but with the moonlight casting dark shadows around them, it had never been truer. They stopped in a clearing, stars twinkling overhead.

"I don't have a plan," Bellatrix whispered, voice breaking their carefully constructed silence, startling Hermione.

"We've been fine this far," Hermione said, staring at the older witch's back. She turned to look at Hermione out of the corner of her eye.

Bellatrix tilted her face to the sky, a silver glow hollowing her cheeks, making her skin shine with moonlight. Her lips barely moved as she whispered, "I suppose."

Hermione let the conversation fall away, both of them more comfortable with no words between them. Bellatrix still stood with her face to the sky and Hermione's eyes studied the profile of her face. Her thoughts wandered, along with her eyes. She wasn't clear on why they were just standing in the clearing but she stood, eyes never leaving the dark witch. Bellatrix looked at the stars, eyes tracing the constellations she remembered from all those years ago. She knew them all. She could feel the ground beneath her feet, the presence of Hermione, the gentle breeze that wound around them lazily.

"Bellatrix? What do you need? Hermione asked, taking a tentative step forward. Dark eyes locked on hers and she stopped, waiting for Bellatrix to make the first move.

"A plan would be nice," she said bitterly.

"We'll make one." Hermione took another slow step forward when Bellatrix didn't object, eyes not leaving the dark witch.

Bellatrix stared into Hermione's eyes, searching for some sense of betrayal, of a lie. She found only steadiness, the deep brown of Hermione's eyes were solid. She said nothing, watching as Hermione took another step forward. The silence surrounded them, punctuated only by soft footfalls of Hermione's careful approach. It was several minutes before she was directly in front of Bellatrix. Their eyes were still locked, all the communication they needed. Moonlight reflected off of them, making them appear ethereal. Their breaths met between them, Hermione's face tilted up slightly to look at the dark witch.

"You should get back to bed," Bellatrix whispered.

"If that's what you want."

"What do you want?"

"I always seem to want what I can never have," Hermione whispered. She broke eye contact with Bellatrix, turning to walk back to the castle. She paused, turning back to Bellatrix, seeming to want to say more.

"What?"

"Should I leave the window open for you?"

"That's not what you were going to say."

"No. It wasn't.

"Tell me." This time, Bellatrix approached Hermione, much faster than the younger witch had.

"You look hauntingly beautiful in the moonlight," she whispered.

"I'll come with you," Bellatrix said. Hermione nodded, turning back to continue walking to the school. She didn't catch the small smile on Bellatrix's face as she watched Hermione's back. She shifted, quickly settling on the young witch's shoulder. Hermione walked them back to the castle, silently moving through corridors she had long since memorized. It was easy in the dark, no one around to stare at her and whisper words they thought she couldn't hear. It didn't bother her, but she enjoyed the quiet the dark brought.

* * *

Hermione sat at the staff table in the Great Hall with Bellatrix on her shoulder. The other professors were cordial enough, though they were a bit put off by Hermione's stoic attitude. Her voice always seemed flat and her face was like stone. It was disconcerting, especially since so many of them had taught the bright-eyed girl that always seemed so happy. Bellatrix was no help, either. She glared at anyone that looked at Hermione for too long and seemed likely to peck them if they weren't careful. Hermione looked out at the sea of students, recognizing some faces. She could sense stares coming from nearly every direction but she ignored them, face unexpressive. Bellatrix shifted on her shoulder and Hermione turned her head to look at her. Bellatrix tilted her head, eyes glinting mischievously.

"Don't you dare," Hermione whispered so only she could hear. Her words were undermined by the amused smile on her face. Bellatrix fluffed her feathers in response.

The large doors opened, Minerva at the head of a group of first years waiting to be sorted. Hermione watched as they nervously entered, remembering how she had felt when she first saw the large room. A bittersweet feeling washed over her, one she ignored. She glanced at the students, not lingering too long on any of them even though they were all looking at her in awe. Everyone knew who she was. She had never imagined that after the war would be so...dull. She had never wanted to be looked upon as she so often was, never wanted people to whisper about her as she walked past. Hermione had just wanted to survive. Bellatrix shifted again, sensing Hermione's thoughts and gaining her attention. She lightly hopped on the young witch's shoulder, mischievous look still on her face. Hermione shook her head subtly.

The Sorting Ceremony had begun, but Hermione wasn't paying any attention to it. Bellatrix kept distracting her and she knew the dark witch was bored. She didn't clap for any of the students when they were sorted, keeping her face blank when she stared ahead. Snape would be proud of her if he saw. She didn't know why she thought it, but she did, and a wave of sadness washed over her. She had missed everyone's funeral. Not that she would have said anything at the ceremony but it might have been nice to have a proper goodbye. Bellatrix pecked her behind the ear, drawing Hermione's attention back to the happenings in the Great Hall. Minerva was introducing the staff and they were all standing and waving. Hermione didn't want to get up and wave. It was a pointless gesture. Everyone knew who she was and that she was the DADA Professor.

"I'm sure you're all aware of the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Ms. Hermione Granger. She will also be the Head of House for the Gryffindors," Minerva introduced, gesturing to her.

Hermione heard murmuring in the crowd of students but paid it no mind. She briefly stood but did not wave, whispering to Bellatrix, "Now you can do it."

The raven on her shoulder appeared to smile, taking off and swooping over the crowd. She dived at some of them, never actually striking them. A few of them flinched and she cawed, joyful at the surprise and vague terror on the students' faces. Hermione watched with a slight smile on her face. She vanished with a _crack_ , reappearing on the other side of the Great Hall.

" _Immobulus!"_ She cast, stopping Bellatrix mid-flight. The raven glared at her but the young witch ignored it. She strode to the inert bird, holding out her arm and releasing the spell. Bellatrix took up her position on Hermoine's shoulder, looking annoyed.

"Lesson one," Hermione began, walking back to the staff table, "Be prepared for any eventuality." She did not speak loudly, but her voice echoed in the silent room. She took her seat, ignoring the awed looks from the younger students. The older students hid their smirks. It was just like Hermione to show off on the first day back. Minerva took it as a good sign, a sign that Hermione was still making progress with her recovery, which is why she didn't say anything about it. Instead, she hid the small smile on her face and continued her announcements. Hermione watched the ceiling, picking out the visible constellations around the clouds until Minerva finished. She fed small bites of her food to Bellatrix who eventually hopped onto the table and began pecking at her food. She muttered under her breath, earning a peck on her fingers from Bellatrix. She relented, eyes wandering over the students again. She could easily pick out Ginny, Neville, and Luna. There weren't many others she recognized or cared to.

Thankfully, dinner wasn't a terribly long affair and soon Hermione was standing from the table, watching the students file out of the Great Hall. She heard the Prefects calling out to the first years, giving them instructions. Minerva gave them all a nod of dismissal and she weaved through the students deftly. Most of them didn't even notice she had brushed past them until she was already gone. The few that did see her coming moved out of her way.

"Hermione! I mean, Professor!" a familiar voice called. Hermione stopped, turning in the direction of the voice. It was Ginny.

"Hello, Ginny."

"We missed you at the funerals," she said.

"I know. I was in bad shape."

"Well, I'm glad you're back. It's gonna be weird to have you teaching us but I can't think of anyone more suited for DADA."

"Do you need something?"

"Yeah, we tried the password to the Gryffindor Common Room earlier and it didn't work. Can you help us out? The Fat Lady is being a pain."

"Sure." Bellatrix ruffled her feathers irately at Hermione, wanting to return to their room. "Don't mind her, she's just grumpy because of earlier."

"That was awesome by the way. I think you really freaked out some of the younger students." Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm, towing her along to Gryffindor Tower. Bellatrix puffed her feathers in pride. She had always loved to cause panic among the younger students, especially Gryffindors.

"I do know the way," Hermione protested. Ginny was having none of it, though, and dragged her all the way to the Fat Lady's portrait. First years gaped at Ginny's closeness with Hermione, especially the familiar way they had conversed.

"I thought I told you this morning what the password was?" Hermione asked the Fat Lady, annoyance seeping into her voice.

"I forgot and I cannot let just anybody in," the Fat Lady declared. Hermione ground her teeth, feeling Bellatrix bristle.

"I don't know why I bothered restoring your stupid portrait if you were going to be this way," Hermione mumbled, continuing in a clear voice, "The password is 'dittany' and you would do well to remember this time."

"Of course. It won't happen again," she stammered. Hermione scared her sometimes. She had seen some of what the young witch was capable of and didn't want to face her wrath.

"Thanks, Prof," Ginny said, ushering the first years to the side. She ignored Hermione's raised eyebrow and the brunette left, robes billowing behind her.

Hermione navigated through the corridors expertly, avoiding other interactions. She let out a sigh of relief once the door was firmly closed behind her. She slumped against the door, her head tilted upward. Bellatrix stood in front of her, watching with an amused smile on her face.

"You know, I really don't appreciate you using me in your little teaching moment," she said.

"What are you going to do about it?" Hermione asked, eyes falling on Bellatrix.

"I'm not sure. I could ask you to beg for forgiveness, or punish you, or both. But I get the feeling that you would enjoy either of those a little too much."

"Is that a bad thing?" Hermione removed the outer layer of her robes, hanging them on a hook by the door.

"Only when I'm trying to punish you."

"That doesn't mean it isn't effective."

"It does if I'm trying to teach you a lesson. If you enjoy the punishment you'll keep doing it."

"Maybe I just like to irritate you sometimes." Hermione toed off her shoes, leaving them by the bed. She stood at her full height, slightly shorter than Bellatrix and faced the dark witch fully.

"That's hardly any better."

"Maybe it's my way of asking for pain."

"Well, why didn't you say so?" Bellatrix purred, stepping close enough to Hermione that they could feel the warmth of each other's skin.

"I thought I just did." Hermione's heart jumped at the closeness, breaths coming faster. She saw Bellatrix's pupils dilate, almost shivering at the sight.

Bellatrix leaned forward, swiping her nails diagonally across the young witch's cheek, stopping at the corner of her mouth. Hermione inhaled sharply but didn't flinch. Blood pooled on her cheek and she licked the corner of her mouth. The sweetly metallic taste of blood bloomed on her tongue. Bellatrix looked into Hermione's eyes, dark and consumed by her pupils. Smirking, the dark witch roughly ran a thumb over the cut flesh, collecting blood on the pad of it. She put it in her mouth, turning away from the brunette. Hermione watched Bellatrix stride to the other side of the room. Her heart hammered in her chest and she struggled to take full breaths.

"Satisfied?" Bellatrix asked, throwing a smirk over her shoulder.

"For now," Hermione said, throwing Bellatrix her own smirk. It was all a game to them, one they never got enough of.

Hermione cleaned the blood from her face, fingers lightly tracing the lines on her cheeks. Bellatrix propped open the window, shifting into her animagus form and flying out of the window. She circled around the towers and over the school. The wind rushed through her feathers and she soared easily, a black dot in the sky. She stayed on the grounds, knowing if she left now that the wards were up she wouldn't be able to get back in without Hermione. As she flew by the Forbidden Forest, she saw something lurking in the depths but brushed it off. Plenty of creatures lived in the forest, it was probably a centaur. She heard the rumble of thunder and circled back to the castle, entering Hermione's room from the still open window. Hermoine was reading on the bed, hair still damp from her bath and in her pajamas.

"Do you want me to heal them?" Bellatrix asked, throwing herself onto the bed.

"I could do it myself if I wanted to." Hermione glared at her, setting her book aside.

"You want to keep them, then?"

"If anyone asks I'll just say Polaris got a little too antsy."

"Works for me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Only because you'd still get the credit."

"Yeah, but I don't see a problem with that."

"We should take out the Ministry. It will leave the government too weak to stop you from taking over."

"Are you suggesting we murder the Minister?" Bellatrix asked, excitement coloring her voice.

"I was thinking something even more devastating. If the Minister dies he'll just be replaced."

"So, we just kill everyone in the Ministry."

"Not exactly. We blow up the Ministry and its outposts. Some of the Death Eaters are still at large. If we play our cards right we should be able to shift the blame to them."

"The Ministry is huge. With just the two of us, we wouldn't be able to make a blast that big."

"I'm still working on that. We don't need to blow up the entire building. If we take out the structural points the building will collapse. We just have to place timed explosives. I don't know how hard they would be to make. I'd need to get the information from the Muggle world."

"You want to use Muggle technology? Surely magic will be just fine." Bellatrix sat up on the bed, glaring at Hermione.

"Think about it. If we use magic they might be able to trace us. Muggle explosives will be deadlier and any protections in place against a magical attack will be useless. They'll also cause fires and we don't have to be in the building to detonate them."

"You make valid points. But the Death Eaters would never use Muggle explosives to blow up a building. Only a mudblood would think of that."

Hermione stroked the scar on her arm absently. Her eyes were unfocused but still, she spoke, "Voldemort was a half-blood. It's possible we could make it seem like his idea and the Death Eaters are still following his orders."

"That might work." Bellatrix chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I appreciate the confidence you have in me," Hermione said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"How do we get what we need?"

"We'll have to go to the Muggle world."

"I will do no such thing," Bellatrix announced.

"It would be suspicious if I didn't have you with me. Besides, once we're in the Muggle world you won't have to be in your animagus form. No one will recognize you."

"It would be nice to explore more than the forest."

"Perfect. It's settled." Hermione picked up her book again, resuming her reading. Bellatrix abandoned her sitting position for a more comfortable one laying next to Hermione.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N I am so late and I am so sorry. I really struggled with the ending of this chapter because I am trying to develop their relationship in a way that fits with the story. There are key lines that I need the two of them to cross and this was one of them because their relationship is so much more complicated than Bellatrix owning Hermione. I'm shooting for Sunday for the next update because I have two Secret Santa party-things on Saturday and I'm trying to finish Blinded by the Light (the key word is trying). Anyway, I hope you enjoy this overdue chapter and if you have exams coming up this week or next, good luck. If you've already taken your exams, I'm very jealous but I hope you did well.**

 _I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,_

 _or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off._

 _I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,_

 _in secret, between the shadow and the soul._

 _-Sonnet XVII,_ Pablo Neruda

* * *

The students were outside near the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. They eyed it warily, dividing their attention between Hermione and the shadowy trees. Hermione hadn't told them why they were having class outside today, not that they would complain. The weather was pleasant and sitting inside for long hours was boring. Hermione seemed uninterested in the students, eyes scanning the surface of the water behind them. A black raven perched on her shoulder, as usual. They had grown accustomed to the bird, even if it did appear to take pleasure in tormenting them.

"What's the one thing all of you are forgetting?" Hermione asked the group. She watched as they whispered to each other, all too afraid to answer.

"We don't have our wands drawn?" One student ventured.

"That has nothing to do with anything. Your wand is an extension of yourself, but it is not wholly necessary. Try again."

"Our textbooks?"

Hermione chuckled, the statement similar to something she would have uttered a few years ago. "In all the time we've been outside, none of you have looked behind you. Why is that?"

"The Forest is dangerous, Professor," a student toward the back.

"And the water behind you is not?"

The students were quiet. They knew Grindylows lurked in the depths, but this close to shore there wouldn't be any. There were rumors of a squid living in the water, too, but none of the students had ever seen it for themselves. Aside from that, they hadn't considered it to be a threat in the way the Forbidden Forest was.

"The water is more unknown to you than the forest. You cannot breathe underwater. The Grindylows are vicious and will not hesitate to swarm and drag you down to the bottom. The forest is still land. You can still breathe. It has its own dangers, this is true, but do not discount something because you think it is harmless to you," Hermione continued. On her shoulder, Bellatrix's eyes glittered with amusement.

"Professor, have you ever seen the squid that supposedly lives in the lake?" a student asked, raising their hand to be seen.

"That would be telling," Hermione said, an amused smile on her face. The students looked disappointed at not having an answer.

"Something's moving in the forest. Look," one student whispered to another, trying to point discreetly. Hermione noticed it and turned, eyes scanning the trees. She prepared to grab her wand, waiting for any indication of an attack. A twig snapped, and Hermione stepped closer to the trees, motioning her students back. She said nothing, listening for anything that might be a clue as to what might be just beyond the trees.

"Go back to the castle. Send McGonagall out here. Don't come back out. I want a paper from all of you on chapter five by Monday," Hermione said. She heard discontented mumbles from the group of students but ignored them, focusing on the treeline. The students complied, trudging back to the castle dejectedly. Hermione waited until they were out of sight to approach the treeline. Bellatrix was a wary presence on her shoulder, scanning their surroundings with her keen eyes. It reminded her of what she had seen on her flight a few days ago. She hadn't mentioned anything because it didn't seem important but now she wondered if it was. It could have been a Death Eater, but they would have to be stupid to attack Hogwarts again.

Hermione twisted Bellatrix's curved walnut wand in her fingers, taking quiet steps forward. Channeling everything Bellatrix taught her, Hermione scanned the trees, eyes finding a shadowy figure. Bellatrix cawed in warning and she ducked as a spell rushed over her head. Standing, she raised her wand, pointing it at the shadowed figure. She had become the predator instead of the prey.

" _Stupefy,_ " she cast quietly. The figure just barely dodged it, forced to leave the cover the trees provided.

"Well, if it isn't Bellatrix's little Mudblood. I suppose you aren't hers anymore, though," Greyback said, laughing. He grinned ferally, hoping to scare the girl. Hermione's face remained blank, her eyes cold as she levelly stared at the Death Eater. On her shoulder, Bellatrix bristled, wishing she could hex the foul man.

"And if it isn't Voldemort's lapdog. Looking for your master? You won't find him, he's dead. I guess you'll have to wander like a lost puppy," Hermione taunted. Greyback growled, face contorting in anger. Bellatrix took the opportunity to leave Hermione's shoulder, settling on a nearby branch so she would be out of the young witch's way. Her eyes glittered with excitement. Hermione was doing well so far.

He flung a spell at her, one she easily dodged, and then she had the audacity to laugh. Enraged, he sent a barrage of spells at her. She dodged or deflected them all easily. Too easily. At the battle, she hadn't dueled with such ease. It was almost reminiscent of Bellatrix. She was even using the dark witch's wand. Greyback continued casting an onslaught of spells, hoping to bombard the young witch and at least hit her with something. It was infuriating. She shouldn't have been able to keep up with him so easily.

Hermione was growing bored of evading. She was mostly doing it to anger the Death Eater casting them, but she also didn't have an opening. She continued dodging and deflecting with a smile on her face. Bellatrix taught her well. The moves came naturally; sidestep, deflect, lean, duck, roll. A dance. She would rather be doing it with Bellatrix. Greyback was decent but he was nowhere near the dark witch's skill level. No one was. Training with Bellatrix made dueling anyone else seem like child's play. She was merciless, overwhelming Hermione with spells. This was easy compared to practice.

Greyback growled, lunging for Hermione. He almost caught her by surprise but she spun out of the way just in time. His fingers closed on air and laughter. He lunged again, this time catching Hermione's waist and tackling her to the ground. She laughed as she hit the ground, the sound weird from the impact. Greyback was physically stronger than her, she knew, and he easily pinned her to the ground. He leaned close, breath rancid.

"I guess you belong to me now. I've always wondered what being inside a Mudblood feels like," he growled.

Hermione stopped laughing, face turning cold as she looked the werewolf dead in the eyes. "I only belong to one person, and it will never be you."

"The person you claim to belong to is dead. No one will save you in time," Greyback chuckled.

"Lucky for me, I don't need saving." Hermione twisted her wrist violently, pointing her wand at the werewolf's chest. A blast of magic hit him dead on, sending him flying off of her. He hit the ground with an almost sickening _thump._ She rolled into a standing position, her wand leveled at the unmoving form of Fenrir Greyback. She kept her distance, unsure if he was going to grab her as soon as she was close enough. She switched her wand to her other hand, shaking out her wrist. Bellatrix alighted on her shoulder, watching the Death Eater for any sign of movement.

Bellatrix pecked her sharply, drawing her attention. As Hermione turned her head, she caught sight of Minerva rushing toward her. A group of students-her students-were standing where the Headmistress had been. Hermione ignored them, cautiously approaching Greyback with her wand still drawn. She stopped in front of him, nudging his inert form with her shoe. He didn't move, didn't even make a sound. She nudged him harder, rolling him onto his back. Oh. His neck was bent sharply from the impact, his eyes lifeless as he stared up at the sky with wide eyes.

"Oops," Hermione murmured insincerely to Bellatrix.

"Hermione, what in Merlin's name happened?" Minerva asked, standing next to the young witch. Her face twisted in disgust at the sight of the dead werewolf.

"He was in the forest. I was doing class outside and one of my students saw movement. I had no idea he was in there. I sent them away, we dueled, I'm sure you saw the rest."

"Yes, I saw him tackle you and then whatever you did to get him off. We'll have to alert the Aurors. Will you send a Patronus?" Minerva asked.

"I can't," Hermione said bluntly. She crouched next to Greyback's body, throwing her robe over him, leaving herself in Muggle clothes. She didn't want to look at him anymore.

"Oh." Minerva frowned, concerned with Hermione's state. This wasn't how she had expected Hermione to act upon finding out she killed a man. It could just be the shock of everything. She had forgotten Hermione hadn't been able to cast a Patronus for some time now. She cast her own, instructing it to take a message to Kingsley.

"If they ask." She pulled a vial from her robe and pressed the tip of her wand to her temple. She extracted the memory of what had just occurred, guiding it into the vial and handing it to Minerva.

"They might want to speak with you," Minerva said.

"It's not like they won't be able to. I'm going to check the forest. Will you tell my class I expect a three page paper on werewolf physiology on my desk before dinner on Saturday?"

"Very well. Are you sure you'll be okay alone?"

"I've got Polaris. And you can burn the robe. I don't think I want it back."

Hermione felt Bellatrix lift from her shoulder, flying above her head as she entered the forest cautiously. She flew in small circles over the young witch, checking around her for signs of Death Eaters. Hermione had her wand drawn, ready to use it if she needed to. Her battle with Greyback had given her a rush of adrenaline but it wasn't enough. She needed more. Systematically checking the Forbidden Forest for other Death Eaters yielded no result, but Hermione did warn the centaurs to be on the lookout. She leaned against a tree, holding her arm out for Bellatrix to land on. The dark witch was tired of flying. Hermione's arm was much more comfortable and it was easier to hurt her. Hermione trudged slowly through the trees back to the castle. It was nearly dinner time but she wasn't in the mood to be stared at. Still, she supposed she should go anyway.

"I hope you're hungry," Hermione whispered to Bellatrix. She earned a single peck on the cheek. Hermione increased her pace, arriving at the Great Hall in no time. The students were already sitting and eating and she strode past them, paying no mind to what she heard the students whispering. She knew the students were excited to have seen such a thing. They were probably greatly exaggerated, too. She took her seat at the table, looking out at all the students. Bellatrix hopped onto the table, pecking at the plate in front of Hermione. The young witch nibbled on her food, enough to make it look like she was eating. Bellatrix pecked her finger, gesturing with her head to the plate. Hermione sighed, eating more of her food until she couldn't anymore. Bellatrix bobbed her head up and down before returning to the plate, pecking at the chicken. She yearned to eat in her human form again and almost couldn't wait to go to the Muggle world just so she didn't have to be a bloody bird all the time.

Hermione sat at the table for an appropriate amount of time, dismissing herself when she was no longer required. She wanted to be back in her chambers so she could talk to Bellatrix about Greyback. She flexed her wrist, trying to ease the soreness. She had nearly broken it to get her wand pointed at him. Not that she was bothered by the discomfort, but she would need to be able to move it with ease. She caught sight of her door and rushed to it to avoid anyone that might try to stop her. Not that anyone would, but she yearned for Bellatrix's human presence. Hermione closed the door solidly, turning to find Bellatrix right in front of her.

"You performed well today. A bit slow, but you managed," Bellatrix whispered. She backed Hermione against the door, one arm pressing against her collarbones to keep her against the wood. The other slid slowly down Hermione's arm to her injured wrist, leaving small welts from her nails. Hermione shivered, staring into dark orbs. Her eyes flicked to ruby lips pulled into a smirk, quickly returning her gaze to Bellatrix's eyes.

"You always know just what to say to make a girl feel good," Hermione gasped, a small smile on her face.

"Trust me, I know much more than that," Bellatrix husked in Hermione's ear. The young witch's breath caught and she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine at Bellatrix's warm breath against her skin.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to teach me?"

"I could probably be persuaded," Bellatrix said. Her dark eyes glittered predatorily as she brought Hermione's wrist to her lips. She ran her teeth over the sensitive flesh, basking in Hermione's thinly veiled restraint. She wanted to know how far she could push the girl before she reacted. She wanted Hermione to embrace what was inside her, even if everyone else would call it a monster.

"Probably?" Hermione managed. She eyed Bellatrix, the wicked smirk on her face, the darker-than-black eyes glittering with mischief and something Hermione didn't have a name for. Bellatrix abandoned Hermione's wrist, letting it fall against the door as she roughly tangled her hand in Hermione's hair. She pulled, tilting the young witch's head up and to the side. The dark witch leaned into Hermione, tracing the nail marks on her cheek with the tip of her tongue. Bellatrix smirked victoriously when she heard the young witch's slow, controlled inhale, felt the clenching of her jaw as she fought to maintain her sense of self.

"You have to let go, Hermione. It's going to eat you alive if you don't," Bellatrix whispered.

"I can't," Hermione muttered. She tried to distance herself from Bellatrix but she was already backed against the door.

"It's just me. No one else is going to see. I understand you. We're the same, you know we are. Let go." The last part was almost a hiss and Bellatrix tightened her grip on Hermione's hair.

"Do you promise I'm yours?" Hermione asked, her voice flat. She stared straight ahead, face and eyes blank.

"You said it yourself, you'll only ever belong to me. I own you." Bellatrix ran her teeth down Hermione's jaw, biting roughly but carefully into the flesh of her throat. She heard Hermione's quiet moan and pulled back, blood staining her lips. Hermione's control broke, the desire to hurt people becoming her priority. She lunged at Bellatrix, latching roughly onto the dark witch's shoulder. The arm against her collarbones retreated, winding around her waist and keeping her close. The hand in her hair tightened but it barely registered as the sweetly metallic taste of Bellatrix's blood bloomed on her tongue. Her nails dug into the dark witch's arms, sinking into pale skin. Bellatrix made a noise in between a hiss and a sigh as Hermione's tongue ran over the bite.

"Easy. You have to learn the best way," Bellatrix said when Hermione made to bite her again. She held the young witch's head still with the hand in her hair but she could feel the resistance. Hermione growled as Bellatrix pinned her back against the door easily. The dark witch was still physically stronger than Hermione and she knew it was pointless to struggle but she didn't want to stop.

"Look at me," Bellatrix commanded, gripping Hermione's chin tightly, "I'm going to teach you what to do but you have to look at me."

Hermione's struggling gradually ceased, her strength diminishing quickly against Bellatrix's iron grip. Her eyes burned with fire, chest heaving and a light sheen of sweat coating her skin. Her hands dropped from Bellatrix's arms and her gaze settled on the dark witch. Bellatrix's own eyes shined with victory and what almost looked like pride. She felt Hermione relax and she eased her grip, not needing as much force to keep the young witch still. Hermione's struggle was written on her face and Bellatrix traced the cuts on the young girl's cheek almost tenderly.

"It's intense, isn't it? Don't worry. You'll get used to it, I'll help you. Tell me, when Greyback had you pinned how was it different from when I have you pinned?" Bellatrix whispered. Her lips just barely brushed against Hermione's cheek, breath fanning over her flushed skin.

Hermione steadied her breathing, fighting the urge to push against the dark witch. "It's-when you do it, it's for me, right? He did it for himself. When you do it I feel alive, on fire."

"Good girl." Bellatrix slid her hand to Hermione's neck, brushing her thumb over the still bloody bite mark. Hermione let her head fall against the door, biting her lip to stifle a moan. The dark witch chuckled, admiring the bruising on Hermione's throat. It was a lovely shade of purple mingling with the bright red of Hermione's blood. Bellatrix tilted Hermione's head, nudging her jaw with her nose. Her tongue darted out, cleaning the blood from her neck.

"Bellatrix," Hermione mumbled. Her hands tangled in ebony snarls, tugging sharply.

"That's it," Bellatrix cooed, smirking pridefully.

"Is this how you do it to everyone?"

"No." Bellatrix tugged Hermione's hair sharply.

"Because I belong to you?"

"Such a smart little witch."

"Then what about other people?"

"You don't need anyone but me."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Hermione nodded, leaning her forehead on Bellatrix's shoulder. She could almost hear the dark witch's pulse, strong and steady and solid beneath the skin of her neck. Bellatrix ran her hand through Hermione's hair, the other gripping her waist possessively. Nails dug into pale skin, leaving a tidy pattern of bloody crescents. Bellatrix hummed approvingly, lifting Hermione easily. She could sense the struggle for control in the young witch, the need to leash the thing inside of her. It would take coaxing on her part for Hermione to learn full control. Bellatrix made soothing noises against Hermione's temple as she carried the young witch to the bed. Hermione held tightly to the dark witch, forcing Bellatrix to lie with her. The former Death Eater found she didn't mind. Hermione belonged to her, and as much as she wanted to break her, she felt the desire to help keep her together. She could only do what she knew. Guiding Hermione to her would satisfy both parts of her.

"So beautiful," Bellatrix murmured, running her thumb over the bite mark on Hermione's throat and healing it.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N I have not abandoned this story, I promise. I kinda struggled with this chapter but I'm finally done with it. I am planning to write a sex scene (when the time is right). As for Minerva, I don't want her to die and I'm trying to figure out a way to not kill her.**

 _"I will not fear, for you are with me and you will never leave me to face my perils alone."_

 _-Thomas Merton_

* * *

Hermione looked at the stack of essays piled on her desk. As her eyes scanned the pile, she regretted assigning the two papers. It would have been easier if she had just deducted house points. She had always thought it silly, but the other students did better when threatened with the loss of house points. Personally, Hermione thought it was childish, but now she understood it was more for the teachers' benefit. Bellatrix sat in Hermione's chair as the young witch sorted through the essays, separating them into two piles based on the house of the student.

"Just burn them," Bellatrix said, spinning in circles.

"Which ones?" Hermione asked, seriously considering it.

"All of them. It's going to get colder soon. We can use it as kindling for the fireplace in our room."

"We have a fireplace?"

"Yes. It's very nice. Perfect for fire." Bellatrix stopped spinning, facing Hermione. Her eyes moved side to side rapidly, making the room seem to spin.

"I would hope so. I mean, it is a fireplace."

"So are you going to?"

"I'll think about it." Hermione flipped through one of the werewolf essays, making a noise of disgust as she flipped through it. "Merlin, this is horrible. This one is definitely kindling. Next time, I'm just taking away house points."

Bellatrix let out an amused chuckle at Hermione's muttering. "Please let them all be that bad. We'll have a fire for days."

"We're witches, Bellatrix. We don't even need it." Hermione flicked through the essays, a look of boredom on her face.

"Yeah, but it so much more fun this way."

"I suppose that's fair."

"So, when are we going to the Muggle world? I'm absolutely dying in this castle." Bellatrix began spinning again, slower this time.

"I haven't asked Minerva if it's okay."

"Do that."

"Later. I have a class to prepare for. Come on." Hermione reached out, grabbing the chair and stopping the dark witch's spinning.

"Class is so boring, though," she grumbled, slumping in Hermione's chair.

"Not all the time. I'm gonna tell them they wrote an essay for no grade. I'm sure you'll delight in seeing the devastation on their faces at all the work they won't get credit for."

"Tempting. Okay, what the hell."

Hermione tilted her head to the side as Bellatrix settled on her shoulder, moving the stack of kindling to the side. She would be getting more essays today, this time from all of her students. Bellatrix bobbed up and down on her shoulder, already bored and feeling confined. With any luck, they could go over a weekend when there were no classes. She wasn't very ha[[y about Hermione having to ask permission from McGonagall, but she really needed to be somewhere away from Hogwarts grounds. She wasn't sure how long she could remain undiscovered. They were doing fine but all it took was one mistake and everything was ruined. She had barely controlled herself when Greyback had attacked Hermione. Hermione was hers, no one else could have her.

No one was in the classroom when Hermione strode in and she was grateful for the moment of quiet before class. Shortly after she got everything ready, the students started trickling in. She ignored it, sitting on her desk and watching. She wouldn't tell them to stop talking, but they would gradually fall silent at the sight of her piercing hazel gaze. The students stifled a shudder as they tried not to look at her directly.

"I hope you all did your homework," Hermione drawled, rising from her desk as students began rifling through papers to find it. She waited until the person in the front of each row had them all before collecting them. She rifled through them as she walked back to her desk. They were the quality she had expected from Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

"Professor, what are we doing today?" one student asked in a small voice.

"Today we'll be discussing Boggarts. We will put into practice what I'm going to teach you, but not today."

All her classes proceeded in similar manners, collecting essays, teaching them about Boggarts. Bellatrix tried to hide her boredom, but Hermione still noticed it. The students were oblivious to the raven's fidgeting throughout the day. Hermione watched out of the corner of her eye, smiling in amusement before returning her full attention back to the class. They would listen with rapt attention or unmasked boredom, but she disregarded it. She knew some students learned better through application, and the time would come for that. It wasn't until the last class of the day that Bellatrix's boredom finally began to ease. This was the class that had been assigned the extra essay. After Hermione collected the homework assignment, she sat partially on her desk, one foot on the floor.

"I looked through your essays. I haven't graded them and I don't plan to. Next time you do not follow my instructions, I will deduct house points. Consider this a free pass," she said.

"You mean we did all that work for nothing?"

"As far as I could tell, none of you put much effort into the essay, so I won't put any effort into grading them."

A chorus of groans emanated from the students. Bellatrix hopped in amusement, earning a quick look from Hermione. She ignored the groans, stroking Bellatrix's feathers absently. "Today we will be learning about Boggarts. Does anyone know what a Boggart is?"

"A creature!"

"Well, yes. Does anyone know the specific nature of Boggarts?" Hermione pressed her index finger and thumb to the bridge of her nose, applying pressure to soothe her growing headache.

"Doesn't it turn into a person's fear?"

"Very good. A Boggart is a creature that hides in dark spaces, like cabinets or wardrobes, and takes the form of a person's darkest fear. There is a way to counter it, and I will teach you when I feel that you are ready. For now, you will become familiar with the aspects of Boggarts. If you put the proper amount of effort into your essay, you should be fine."

Hermione observed the students' reactions, drawing her fingers away from Bellatrix when she pecked them. She glared at the bird, receiving what almost looked like a grin. She turned her attention back to the students, watching as they began taking notes from the chapter.

"Professor?"

"Yes?"

"What's your Boggart?"

Hermione blinked, chewing on her lip before answering, "I'm not entirely sure what it would be now."

"What was it?"

"I think that's enough for today. Class is dismissed, enjoy your evening," she said curtly. Her students blinked in surprise, watching as she strode out of the room, her raven not far behind her. They shrugged, excited to have the rest of the evening to themselves. Hermione went back to her office, throwing herself into her chair. Bellatrix pecked at her hand lightly, not drawing blood but making the muscles tighten in pain.

"Hermione?" Ginny called, knocking on the half-open door.

"What is it, Ginny?"

"It's the Fat Lady. She won't let us in."

"Again?"

"Yeah. Sorry to bother you. You didn't change the password, did you?" Ginny shifted her weight awkwardly, sensing Hermione's frustration.

"It should still be 'pixies.' Is it not working?" Hermione stood from her chair, resting a hand on her desk.

"Oh, that's my bad. Sorry, I was using the old one. Everything okay?"

"Are you ever reminded of them?"

"All the time. I wish I could say it gets easier, but I really don't know." She stepped into the room, staying near the door.

"I worked so hard but it didn't even matter. Everything I was afraid of came true." Hermione sat back down in her chair, looking mournfully at Ginny. Bellatrix rubbed her head against Hermione's hand, the gesture oddly cat-like.

"No one could have saved them, Hermione. At least it wasn't all for nothing. Voldemort is gone, the Death Eaters are hardly a threat, we're still here. We have to make the most of it. I have to go, I'm sorry, but I'll talk to you later." It was almost a question and Hermione nodded, gazing past Ginny. The redhead cast a sympathetic look at Hermione as she left, closing the door firmly behind her.

Hermione waited until the sound of footsteps faded before asking Bellatrix, "Do you think she bought it?"

Bellatrix bobbed her head up and down a few times, pecking at Hermione's fingers.

"Alright, fine, I'm going. You're so pushy today."

Bellatrix glared at Hermione as she stood, perching on her shoulder. Hermione huffed, opening the door and heading to Minerva's office. She wasn't sure if the Headmistress would be there this close to dinner, but it was worth a shot. As she strode through the corridors, her mind turned to the essays she had to grade. She felt bad about all the extra work she had put into her assignments. She hadn't realized how much the professors had to grade. Hermione reached the door to Minerva's office, uttering the password and walking up the stairs.

"Hermione, how are you?" Minerva said as Hermione entered her office.

"I'm okay. I wanted to ask you something," Hermione said quietly. Minerva gestured for her to sit across from her and she did, looking at the older witch.

"What is it, Hermione?" Minerva looked at Hermione with concern, observing the young witch's stature.

"Could I maybe go to the Muggle world over a weekend or something? It's a lot harder to be here than I thought and I'd like to start trying to find my parents. I don't know if I can undo the memory charm but it would be nice to know they're safe, at least." Hermione willed her eyes to tear up, gazing at Minerva with a look of despair.

"Of course. I'm sure we can arrange something with Kingsley so you aren't alone."

"Actually, I'd prefer to go by myself, if that's okay. No one in the Muggle world would recognize me and I doubt the Death Eaters would even go there." Hermione tried not to sound too desperate to go alone. If she pushed too hard, Minerva might suspect something.

The Headmistress tapped her finger against her chin, debating an answer. "Okay. I know you value your privacy and I know this is something you have to do for yourself. I do request that you use my personal floo to come and go so I know you're safe. You can go on weekends so long as it doesn't distract you from work."

"Thank you, Minerva. I'll be sure that it doesn't."

"Is there something else on your mind, Hermione?"

"Well, sort of. I-the," Hermione inhaled shakily, "I killed someone."

"The Death Eater. Hermione, he attacked you. You defended yourself and I'm sure you didn't mean to kill him." Minerva put a hand on Hermione's unoccupied shoulder, squeezing in a way she hoped was reassuring.

"I didn't. But, still, I never thought that I would be capable of that." Hermione stared at her hands, imagining blood streaming down them. She shivered, looking up at Minerva. The old witch's eyes shimmered with sadness and Hermione worked to hide her feeling of triumph.

"There is nothing wrong with defending yourself, okay?"

Hermione nodded slowly, biting her lip to keep her expression from changing. Bellatrix sat on her shoulder, studying Minerva closely. As far as she could tell, the Headmaster bought it just like Ginny had. She had been worried the people close to Hermione would have noticed the changes. They hadn't so far and Bellatrix was relieved. If any of them suspected Hermione was hiding her, working with her, lied about her, it would be catastrophic. They had to play it carefully, make the appropriate reactions, act like they were trying to get better. Well, Hermione did, anyway. Bellatrix just had to avoid being seen by anyone but Hermione.

"Why don't you have dinner in your chambers tonight? Have some time away and just relax."

"Okay." Hermione's tone was flat, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Minerva retracted her hand and Hermione stood, trudging out of the office and going to her room. It was an effort not to change her pace as she weaved through the crowd of students. Bellatrix held tightly to Hermione's shoulder, glaring at anyone who looked at them for too long.

Hermione closed the door behind her, magically locking it as Bellatrix leaped from her shoulder. She grabbed the plate of food off Hermione's desk, putting it in Hermione's hands and making her sit. Hermione opened her mouth to protest, silenced by Bellatrix's hand over her mouth. She glared at the dark witch, biting the tender flesh between Bellatrix's thumb and index finger. Bellatrix hissed, her eyes narrowing but she didn't move her hand. Hermione flicked her eyes up to Bellatrix, running her tongue over the bite mark. Bellatrix took a controlled breath, eyes flashing violently.

"Eat. We can do this later," she hissed, yanking her hand away from Hermione.

"I'm not hungry," Hermione protested, putting the plate on her desk.

"Eat anyway." Bellatrix turned away from Hermione, jumping onto the bed.

"Fine. Wanna get the fire going?" Hermione held out the stack of essays, waiting for Bellatrix to take it.

"You're too good to me," Bellatrix joked, taking the essays and laying them in the fireplace. Hermione hummed, forcing herself to take small bites. She ate most of her plate, setting the rest aside. Bellatrix nodded approvingly, eating the rest of the food on Hermione's plate.

"Bellatrix."

"Yes?"

"What if we don't frame the Death Eaters? What if we frame the Muggles? I mean, the Death Eaters would be too disorganized to really attack and everyone is on the lookout for them. If we put a Muggle under the Imperious charm, we wouldn't even have to break in."

"Muggles can't get in the Ministry, Hermione."

"No one has to know they're a Muggle. We dress them up as a witch or wizard, maybe Polyjuice them. Easy." Hermione turned her chair to face Bellatrix, watching the fire behind her.

"Polyjuice them as who?" Bellatrix put her hands on either side of Hermione, leaning forward.

"Someone with access to the Ministry, just in case they're seen."

"What if we Polyjuice them as Kingsley? No one would question his presence. If anything, he might be blamed if someone sees him."

"Why would Kingsley blow up the Ministry, though?"

"Why not?"

"I guess." Hermione shrugged, watching Bellatrix, waiting for her to move.

"Do you have a better idea?" Bellatrix husked, leaning close to Hermione.

"The only other person I can think of is Arthur Weasley," Hermione whispered.

"Tempting. We'll think about it, won't we?" Bellatrix rubbed her cheek against Hermione's, hearing her stuttered inhale.

"Yes," Hermione breathed, trying not to squirm.

"You still care for them. You weren't entirely lying."

"What?" Hermione turned her head slightly, grunting when Bellatrix slammed her head against the back of the chair.

"The boys! You still care for the boys!" Bellatrix was frenzied, her eyes gleaming like a wild animal as her nails dug into Hermione's cheeks.

"No!" Hermione didn't try to struggle against Bellatrix's vice-like grip.

"Don't lie."

"Failure. That was my biggest fear, Bellatrix. I was supposed to keep them alive and I couldn't. I care that I failed, not that they're dead." Hermione held Bellatrix's gaze unflinchingly, staring into dark, stormy eyes.

"How is that different?" she growled.

"Because if I fail I don't mean anything. They gave me a reason not to fail and that kept everything away."

"And now?"

"You're the only one I need." Hermione sighed when Bellatrix's eyes calmed slightly. "Do whatever you have to."

Bellatrix growled, baring her teeth and pressing her weight into Hermione. The young witch's eyes were calm, if a bit dark, and looking levelly at Bellatrix. The dark witch searched Hermione for any sense of fear, finding none. With one hand, she reached into Hermione's robes, withdrawing her wand and pressing it lightly against her throat. Bellatrix watched Hermione, waiting for a sign of hesitance.

"Crucio," she whispered, holding Hermione in the chair with her body.

The young witch grit her teeth, trying to keep her breathing steady against the pain. A noise of pain slipped from her throat, ignored by both witches. Bellatrix nodded, pulling her wand away from Hermione's throat and letting her slump in the chair. She sat on the couch, watching the crackling fire. Hermione joined her after a few minutes, muscles quivering. Bellatrix pulled Hermione to her, soothing her muscles by lightly running her hands over Hermione's arms. Hermione let her head fall against Bellatrix's arm, closing her eyes and sighing softly.

"Bellatrix?"

"Yes?"

"Do we always destroy the things we love?"

"Only us. We don't know any other way. It's a...side effect of our insanity. We can't see past the need to hurt." Bellatrix spoke softly, stroking Hermione's bushy hair. Hermione nodded, listening to the sound of the fire as it lulled her to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello, hello, my dear readers. I'd like to take a moment to thank you all for dealing with my inconsistent updates. I appreciate all your reviews and follows and what have you.**

 **Enjoy!**

"Sometimes I sit alone under the stars and think of the galaxies inside my heart and truly wonder if anyone will want to make sense of all that I am."

-Christopher Poindexter

* * *

Hermione and Bellatrix lounged in their room, one on the couch and one at the desk. Bellatrix stared blankly into the empty fireplace, dark eyes steady even though her movements were restless. Hermione sat quietly at her desk, grading papers by the light of a lantern. The only sound in the room was the gently scratching of Hermione's quill on parchment and an occasional sigh.

"Hermione."

"Yes, Bellatrix?" Hermione didn't look up from the essay, quill still scribbling corrections.

Bellatrix turned her gaze away from the fireplace, focusing on Hermione's back. "The Weasley man. What department does he work for in the Ministry?"

"Something related to Muggles and their stuff."

"And Shacklebolt is Minister?"

"Yes." Hermione knew Bellatrix knew all this information already, but she also knew the dark witch needed to think aloud.

"Hmm." Bellatrix tapped her finger against her lip, her eyes following the movement of Hermione's quill.

"If you're thinking about who to use, Arthur is our best bet. I don't think anyone would believe that Kingsley would try to blow up the Ministry. Arthur lost two children in the war, and he cared a lot about Harry, so it's almost like he lost three. If the Ministry had stepped up and taken care of Voldemort, they probably wouldn't have died so young."

"He was always even-tempered."

"Everyone has a breaking point, Bellatrix." Hermione set down her quill, turning in her chair to face the dark witch.

"What's yours?" Bellatrix leaned her elbows on the armrest, her knees digging into the couch as she leaned closer to Hermione.

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "We both know I've already passed it."

"Well, what was it, then?" Annoyance seeped into Bellatrix's voice but Hermione was unbothered by it.

The young witch was quiet for a moment, looking into Bellatrix's dark eyes. "It's hard to say."

"Was it that night in the Manor? Did I break you, push you into the depths of your mind?" Bellatrix's voice was no more than a whisper and she leaned closer to Hermione, eyes gleaming predatorily.

Hermione shivered despite the heat she could feel radiating off the dark witch. "It started before that."

"But that was the turning point."

"Yes." It hadn't been a question, but Hermione felt the need to answer, anyway.

"When did you know it would be me? When did you know I would be the one to make you into what you're meant to be? What you've always been."

"At the Ministry. I didn't know at the time what it was, though. Everything got louder and quieter at the same time, I thought it was just adrenaline but it wasn't. It wasn't until that night I understood. My dream was because of you. The cliff, the waves, everything. You weren't in it that time, but even still, I knew."

Bellatrix smiled victoriously, abandoning the couch in favor of standing in front of Hermione. "And when did you know you would come running if I called you?"

"When you gave me this," Hermione whispered, holding up her bare arm for Bellatrix to see. The dark witch grabbed Hermione's wrist, running her other hand over the scar almost lovingly. Hermione shivered at the touch, her scar aching pleasantly at Bellatrix's proximity.

"A beautiful mark for a beautiful girl." Bellatrix seemed to not realize what she just said, all her attention on the scar. Hermione felt her breath catch but ignored the tightening in her chest.

"When did you know you would be able to take me?" Hermione's words barely disturbed the air between them and, for a moment, she thought Bellatrix hadn't heard her.

"The night Minerva stopped you from walking into the forest," Bellatrix whispered, rubbing her cheek on Hermione's arm, her next words tickling as she continued in a whisper, "You almost came right to me."

Hermione inhaled shakily. "I didn't know you were in there. I just knew that's where I needed to be."

"You needed someone to help you." Bellatrix stared into Hermione's eyes, the distorted hazel curiously flat.

"Yes."

"Someone to guide you through the murkiness. Would you have fallen without me, I wonder? Or would you have made it to the end?" Bellatrix yanked on Hermione's arm, pulling her out of the chair. Hermione stumbled into Bellatrix, the dark witch pulling her close. Bellatrix smirked as Hermione's eyes came to life.

"You know I need you."

"Do I?"

Hermione wasn't familiar with this game, it wasn't something she was used to. Still, the thought of something new excited her, and she knew exactly what to say, exactly what Bellatrix needed to hear. "Whatever proof you need, Bellatrix, it's yours."

"I don't need anything," Bellatrix growled.

"Whatever you want, then."

"The Weasley. We use him as our scapegoat." Bellatrix released Hermione roughly, ignoring the way the young witch swayed a little bit as she regained her balance.

"Bellatrix, wait." Hermione reached out to the dark witch, her fingers closing around her wrist.

The dark witch turned to look at Hermione, eyes burning with an inner fire. "What?"

"I do need you." Hermione searched Bellatrix's eyes for something she could recognize, relieved when the fire dulled.

"I know." Bellatrix eased her wrist out of Hermione's grip. "I need you, too."

"Are you going out?"

"Yes."

"Be safe. I'll leave the window open for you."

Bellatrix nodded even though Hermione had already turned back to her desk. She stayed to watch the young witch settle back into her chair before opening the window and shifting. The air through her feathers was a welcome distraction, even if it wasn't the same as being in her normal form. It was a minor inconvenience, but it would all be worth it. She would gladly trade a few months of freedom if it meant succeeding in her plans. She had already lost fourteen years, a few months was nothing compared to that. Bellatrix's figure blended into the night perfectly. It was a new moon and the only light came from stars too dim to see anything by. She wheeled through the air, her temporary freedom soothing her.

The highest point of the castle was Bellatrix's destination, but she was in no rush to get there. She flew in lazy circles, letting the updrafts carry her higher. When she finally reached the top, she perched on it easily, looking down at the school grounds. From this high up, it all seemed so small. It was part of the reason she enjoyed it. She was a casual observer, even though there wasn't anything to see at this time of night. It was a good place to think. To think about the events that had lead to this, about what she had admitted to Hermione, about what she had really wanted to say. 'I need you' might as well be the equivalent of 'I can't live without you,' which is much too close to 'I love you.' They weren't capable of love, at least, Bellatrix didn't think so. They were capable of need, something so much more dangerous than love. And, really, that made it so much more condemning for them both.

Bellatrix ruffled her feathers in annoyance, letting out the equivalent of a sigh. When Hermione had first joined her, she hadn't expected to feel this way. She hadn't expected to want to need Hermione, or to want the young witch to need her. But how could they not be drawn to each other? They were the same, true, but they were so, so different. Hermione was calm where Bellatrix was barely restrained energy. Sometimes, you have to be the same to be different, and as Bellatrix realized this, she cawed in irritation. Emotions had never been her strong point, she usually left that to her weaker sisters.

Now, she was faced with feelings she couldn't understand, and she hated things she didn't understand. But she understood Hermione, and she understood they needed each other if they both planned to survive. So what if she began to care for the girl? It was natural to care for things that were necessary. That's all it was. At least, that's what Bellatrix tried to convince herself. She lied to herself. She did it all the time, but if she lied enough, she might begin to believe it. She knew that was a lie, too, but she abandoned the thought. She wasn't ready to admit that her feelings for Hermione stemmed from more than need. She knew how the young witch felt, she was transparent. Bellatrix shook out her feathers, spreading her wings but hesitating before she took off. She wasn't done thinking, not yet.

Hermione was trying to finish grading the essays her students had written. She had a hard time focusing on the words in front of her and it didn't help that the essays weren't that great. Her mind kept drifting to the plan, to Bellatrix. It almost seemed like it would be too easy to weaken the Ministry. It might take a few years until Bellatrix could seize full control, but they had nothing but time. She just had to keep everything hidden. Hermione forced her thoughts back to the essays in front of her, willing herself not to turn and look out the window for Bellatrix.

Hermione growled in frustration when her thoughts returned to Bellatrix again. The light from the lantern was growing dim but she had stopped reading the essays long ago. She was halfway done but could hardly concentrate. Bellatrix's confession of needing her rung in her ears, echoed in her head, it was all she could focus on. Those four words, barely uttered in the space between them but louder than everything. She couldn't help it, she clung to those words, just like she clung to every small admission Bellatrix gave to her. She collected them inside herself, pieces of the puzzle that was Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione wanted to be a piece of her puzzle, needed to.

The lantern light flickered and when Hermione felt her gaze drawn to the window, she took a quick inhale and focused on the essays on her desk. Bellatrix could handle herself, not that there would be a problem as long as she stayed a raven. Her quill scratched over parchment, filling the silence of the room but doing nothing to stop the echo in her head. It brought a faint smile to her face as her quill scribbled over abominations masquerading as essays. Bellatrix understood her, gave Hermione everything she needed. Hermione hoped she gave Bellatrix everything she needed, too, or at least could someday.

Hermione stood from her chair, taking a break from grading as she started a small fire in the hearth. She could have used magic, but there was something about creating it without magic that was so much more satisfying. Creating something with the power to destroy. Is this what Bellatrix felt, why she didn't use magic as much as people believed? Hermione didn't know, and she didn't consider herself to be an expert on Bellatrix's behavior, but she had the feeling she was the closest thing Bellatrix had to a friend. It didn't really mean anything to either of them, they were drawn together because of circumstance. Still, Hermione figured she knew Bellatrix better than most people. There was something inside both of them, something other people didn't have. It wasn't evil, per se, but it wove tendrils of darkness around them. A darkness that they used to shield themselves from the outside world.

Fire roared to life in the hearth, startling Hermione out of her thoughts. A small, triumphant smile graced her face as she made sure it was there to stay. She stood, the light of the fire casting everything in orange. The light of the lantern had flickered into nothing while Hermione had been away. The young witch paid it no mind as she stared into the fire, lost in the easy movement of the flames. They seemed liquid-like at times until they suddenly violently snapped. Hermione sat on the floor with her back against the seat of the couch. Her legs were extended, the soles of her feet warmed by its considerable heat. She draped her arms over the seat of the couch, stifling a yawn. With a flick of her wrist, she levitated the rest of the essays and her quill to her, expending her magic effortlessly. Bellatrix had been teaching her a great deal, and this was so much easier than grading the bloody things by hand.

When Bellatrix finally flew in through the window, it was well past midnight. As she shifted, she noticed the dying fire in the hearth and Hermione sitting on the floor, asleep, with papers scattered around her. Bellatrix tried to fight the gentle tug of her lips as she gathered the essays, careful not to make too much noise. Hermione's arms were on the couch and her cheek pressed against her left shoulder. Her legs were extended and the dark witch carefully stepped over them to avoid tripping. She rifled through the papers, seeing that they had all been graded. She put the stack of essays on Hermione's desk and closed the window. She cringed as it slammed shut against her will, cursing under her breath as she cast a furtive glance in Hermione's direction.

"Bellatrix?" Hermione called out, startled. She rubbed the sleep from her face, searching for her wand.

"It's just me. Sorry, I was trying to be quiet, but something decided not to agree with me." Bellatrix glared petulantly at the window.

"It's okay. Where are the essays?"

"I put them on your desk. Not that they can really be called essays," she said, making sure the window was latched.

Hermione groaned as she flexed her neck and arms, moving from the floor to the couch. " I was thinking the same thing. I don't know what it is about the students, but they do not know how to write essays. I can do better than that in my sleep."

"I don't doubt that." Bellatrix joined Hermione on the couch, watching as the young witch tucked her legs to her chest.

"Where did you fly?"

"The top of the school. I didn't really fly so much as let the wind carry me."

"What's it like?" Hermione put her chin on her knee, eyes flicking over the dark witch before resting on her face.

"It's...freeing. There's nothing more incredible to me than the feeling of the wind around me and watching everything grow smaller and being able to just go. Knowing my wings can carry me to my destination, that I can go anywhere, I love it."

Hermione smiled, her eyes tracing the sharp planes of Bellatrix's face, harshened by the light of the fire. "You learned it when you were young, didn't you?"

"I had to. It was the only way I could escape when things became too much." Bellatrix clamped her mouth shut, glaring at Hermione. "Whatever it is you've done to me, stop."

"I haven't done anything, Bellatrix. But I can see it, just like you can see me."

Bellatrix frowned, studying Hermione's face. It held nothing but honesty, like always. "I could teach you."

Hermione blinked in surprise. Bellatrix had never offered to teach her something, she had just done it. "Why wouldn't you just do it?"

"Because this is something you have to want to do. I can't just teach it to you. You have to make the choice to learn."

"I don't know." Hermione shrugged, stifling a yawn.

"Go to sleep. I'm sure those essays were exhausting."

Hermione sensed the change in Bellatrix's demeanor and nodded, rising from the couch and climbing into bed. Bellatrix stayed on the couch, listening for the change in Hermione's breathing. It didn't take long before the young witch was undoubtedly asleep. Bellatrix watched the fire until it died, sitting in the dark for several silent moments. She wasn't even sure if Hermione possessed the ability to become an Animagus. Surely, she did, considering Hermione seemed to have innate magical power. It was surprising because she was a mudblood, but at the same time, Bellatrix knew it was through sheer willpower. Anyone could see Hermione's tenacity, but Bellatrix could see more than that. She saw why Hermione was the way she was.

Bellatrix couldn't help but admire Hermione's tenacity to survive. Not just survive, but defy the notion of fate. Everyone expected her to help pick up the pieces of the war, to want to help. They couldn't see what they had helped her become. The war she had endured hardened her, partly because of Bellatrix, but also because she was barely more than a child fighting a war started before she was born. She had been thrust into it, but she hadn't let it phase her. Hermione had adapted to it, just like Bellatrix had. It was a trait they shared, among other things. They really weren't that different at all, and Bellatrix couldn't fathom how no one noticed. She wasn't complaining, it just made her suspicious that something bad would happen. Bellatrix shook the feeling off and climbed into bed, leaving space between herself and Hermione.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: My sincerest apologies for the long wait. The last few months have been hectic and I had a bit of writer's block, but with any luck, it's passed and I will be back to at least semi-regular updates.**

There was nothing particularly exciting about today to Hermione. The last time she had faced a Boggart, it had taken the form of Minerva telling her she failed, and she had been too distraught to do anything. Although it hadn't been that long ago, it felt like several lifetimes had passed. She had been on the run, been tortured, fought in a war. A lot had happened, and she certainly didn't feel much about anything anymore. Hermione was numb to it all. Well, almost. The raven on her shoulder was the only sense of comfort she found in the world. Bellatrix made her feel less alone.

"I hope you've all done your homework. Today will not be easy on all of you. It might not be easy on any of you, but know that I am here and will allow no harm to come to you," Hermione announced to her class, murmuring under her breath, "As much as I wish I could sometimes."

Bellatrix fluffed her feathers in amusement, eyes gleaming. Hermione turned her head ever so slightly so Bellatrix could see the small smile on her face. The faces of some of her students paled slightly as the wardrobe holding the Boggart chose that moment to violently shake, prompting a frown from Hermione.

"Professor? Are you really going to let it out?" one student asked, gulping nervously.

"Not right away. I would hardly be a teacher if I didn't prepare you to defend yourselves first."

"You're talking about the Ridukkulus spell, right?" The student shifted nervously in his seat, uncomfortable under Hermione's intense gaze.

"Correct. Ten points to Hufflepuff," Hermione ignored the groaning of the Gryffindors, "You will be using that spell today, and I suggest you be ready. A Boggart is not something to mess around with. It will feed on your fear and it is not a docile creature. Do not let your fear overwhelm you, and remember that laughter makes it weaker. You will not tease anyone about their fear, and if I hear anything about it happening outside my classroom you will serve detention and house points will be deducted. Is that understood?"

The students nodded, eyes nervously fixed on the cabinet behind Hermione. She nodded, thankful that Minerva had made the decision to separate the Gryffindors and Slytherins this year. She remembered how classes were with the rival house and didn't want to deal with it as a teacher. Bellatrix fidgeted on her shoulder, drinking in the fear on the students' faces. The wardrobe behind Hermione rattled again and the students flinched at the violence of it.

"When you face a Boggart, you have one weapon available to you. Laughter is your strongest ally, but not everyone can laugh when faced with their fear. The Ridikkulus spell will make things a little easier for you, if you can cast it. When you do so, imagine the silliest thing your fear could turn into. Any questions?" Hermione had paced the area in front of the wardrobe while she talked and she came to a stop, looking out over her students. "Any volunteers?"

Hermione wasn't surprised when a Gryffindor stood up, oozing bravado. She quietly wondered what his fear would be, and if he would still act so arrogant. Her eyes followed him as he swaggered to the front of the room. Hermione stood unimpressed as he stopped in front of her, a cocky smile on his face. Bellatrix's eyes bore into him, analyzing him. She too wondered what his fear would be and if he would still act like a hotshot. He began to struggle not to fidget under the heavy gazes of the two, his smile faltering only slightly.

"Draw your wand," Hermione whispered, turning to face the wardrobe. She drew her own, and without checking if the student- she didn't know his name- was ready, flicked her wand. There was a thump from inside the wardrobe and Hermione moved to stand behind the student, nudging him forward a few steps with the tip of her wand. The room was silent, so silent Hermione wasn't sure if her students were breathing.

The boy's earlier confidence was entirely false now. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the wardrobe door creaked open and a shadowy thing slipped out. It seemed to think for a few moments, staring at the boy with his wand held in a white-knuckle grip. And in the next moment, it wasn't there anymore. In place of the Boggart was a female-shaped thing, wearing black robes and a silver mask that was so familiar. It was a Death Eater mask. Bellatrix's mask. The dark witch couldn't help but puff her feathers out of pride, and she certainly noticed the small smirk on Hermione's face. Otherwise, the young witch betrayed nothing; her index finger tapped idly on her wand, the same wand currently in the Boggart's hand.

The student faced with the Boggart trembled slightly, his wand raised but no words leaving his mouth. Hermione's eyes were glued to the Boggart, watching its every move for signs of attack. She wouldn't let it get too close to her student, even if she couldn't help but dislike him a little. When the Boggart stepped forward-not as animalistic as Bellatrix, Hermione noticed-the boy took a step back. Hermione whispered the spell to him, breaking him out of his fear and giving him the push he needed.

"Riddikulus!" he cast. The spell hit the Boggart square in the chest, and the creature lengthened, accentuating the gauntness of Bellatrix and turning her head of curls into what looked like the end of a mop. The students burst out laughing, and the Boggart retreated to the wardrobe. Hermione watched impassively as the boy turned, looking much paler than he had been, and walked to his seat. Several of his classmates smacked his back and he faked a cocky smile, eyes betraying the nerves he felt. Quietly, Hermione scanned the room, waiting for the noise to die down. Her brain faintly registered the increased pressure from Bellatrix's talons, and she unconsciously shrugged her shoulder to calm the witch.

"Form a line. No pushing or shoving. We leave after everyone has successfully cast the spell at least once," Hermione said as the voices of her students died down. They obeyed, forming what faintly resembled a line.

Hermione watched with seeming uninterest as each student faced the Boggart. Some students took several attempts to cast the spell, which was understandable. She herself had not been able to cast the spell for her exams. It was almost laughable how different she was now. Idly, Hermione wondered what her Boggart would be now. If it would be anything. She wasn't entirely sure she could be afraid. She imagined Bellatrix's Boggart was a dementor. It was common for prisoners of Azkaban to have an intense fear of dementors. But nothing about Bellatrix was common.

As the last student successfully cast the spell, Hermione decided it didn't matter what her Boggart was. She couldn't find it in herself to care enough about it. "You're all dismissed. Don't forget to read the next chapter in the book, we'll be discussing the material next class.

The students gathered their belongings and filed out of the classroom, chatting with each other as they did. Hermione stayed in her position long after the last student had left. Her mind was elsewhere as she flicked her wand, satisfied when the door closed and the lock clicked. Bellatrix hopped off her shoulder and landed on the desk, shifting back into her human form. She crossed one leg over the other, eyeing Hermione curiously.

"What are you thinking?" she asked, leaning back on her hands.

"Does a Boggart take a form for everyone?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at the dark witch.

Bellatrix curled her fingers around the edge of the desk, tapping a lazy rhythm as a wry smile formed on her face. "Are you asking because you think the Boggart won't take a shape for you?"

"I don't know," Hermione shrugged.

"Make no mistake, little witch, you still have plenty to fear." As Bellatrix spoke, her eyes darkened and Hermione couldn't help the slight shiver that ran down her spine.

"Like what?" Hermione challenged, attempting to hide the slight quirk in her lips as Bellatrix rose to the challenge.

"For starters, you should always fear me," Bellatrix purred, advancing slowly on Hermione, noticing the change in the young witch's stance.

"A given, of course," Hermione breathed, resisting the urge to move toward the dark witch.

"Yes, of course. Now, what else do you have to fear? Let's see," Bellatrix hummed as she ran her nails almost tenderly down Hermione's cheek, "There's always the fear of being caught, but that's just part of the fun."

Hermione suppressed a shiver as Bellatrix's breath ghosted over her neck. "Just because I have something to fear does not mean I do."

Bellatrix's lips twitched into a satisfied smile as she moved next to Hermione, laying her head lightly on her shoulder. "Yes, but that would make you a fool."

"Perhaps." Hermione stepped away from Bellatrix as she heard footsteps echoing through the hall.

"It seems you are not a fool," Bellatrix whispered, taking her cue to transfigure. Hermione flicked her hand to unlock the door as Bellatrix perched on her shoulder, taking great care to squeeze tightly as she got comfortable.

A second later, a knock sounded throughout the room. Hermione had just sat in her chair as the door opened and a head of red hair peeked through the crack.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, coming more fully into the room as she peered around for the young professor. She caught sight of her friend as Hermione rose to greet her.

"What's up Ginny? The Fat Lady being a pain again?" Hermione asked, moving toward the door.

"No, she hasn't been a problem. I was just wondering if I could talk to you about something."

Sure, what's on your mind?" Hermione sat at one of the desks, waiting for Ginny to join her.

"Well," she started as she sat down, "Hermione, why didn't you come to the funerals?"

Hermione sat in quiet shock for a moment. "I didn't know there had even been funerals until after Neville had mentioned it. I wasn't told about them, maybe it's for the best. There was a lot going on, I don't think I could've handled it."

"That makes sense, I guess. It was hard for all of us and I know you went through a lot. Mum wanted me to give this to you. Said Ron would have wanted you to have it." Ginny held out a hand, palm up. The Deluminator Dumbledore had given Ron sat on Ginny's palm.

Hesitantly, Hermione took it from the redhead. "Thanks, Gin."

Ginny nodded, slightly uneasy at the hollowness in Hermione. She shook the feeling off and left Hermione to her thoughts. Silently, she slipped out of Hermione's classroom, casting one last look of concern at the young witch sitting vacantly at the desk.

Hermione stared at the Deluminator in her hand, not quite comprehending what had happened. A small from adorned her face and she hardly noticed Bellatrix taking it out of her hand.

"What's this rubbish?" she asked, scoffing as she turned it in her hand.

"It's a Deluminator. Dumbledore gave it to Ron. I guess it's mine now. It'll probably come in handy at some point." Hermione stood from the desk, letting Bellatrix examine the object.

Bellatrix hummed, setting it on the table and turning her attention to Hermione. The young witch was facing away from Bellatrix, the fingers of one hand tapping absently on the table. Bellatrix reached toward Hermione's fingers, gripping them tightly. Hermione's frown disappeared as her fingers were crushed in Bellatrix's palm and she turned her head to watch Bellatrix out of the corner of her eye.

"Stop that," she hissed darkly.

"Make me," Hermione said, pleased when the dark witch's face hardened.

"And how would you have me do that?" she whispered, tugging Hermione's hand to force the young witch to face her.

"However pleases you," Hermione said, looking directly into Bellatrix's eyes. Both witches were acutely aware of how close they were, of the dark thread pulling them together.

Bellatrix grinned, placing Hermione's hand on her shoulder and grabbing her by the waist. "If that's what you want, then I am more than happy to oblige."

Hermione unsuccessfully suppressed a shiver, resisting the urge to slide her hand into Bellatrix's curls. Bellatrix leaned forward, catching Hermione's earlobe in her teeth before pulling away. Hermione's hand fell as Bellatrix stepped out from under it. Hermione's waist was suddenly cold as Bellatrix removed her hands. Satisfied, the dark witch sat on the table, her attention returning to the Deluminator.


	13. Chapter 13

"I'll follow you and make a heaven out of hell, and I'll die by your hand, which I know so well."

-William Shakespeare

 _A Midsummer Night's Dream_

* * *

Bellatrix lounged on the couch in Hermione's room, idly playing with the Deluminator. She stared at the same spot on the ceiling as the lights came on and went out with a flick of her thumb. She quickly grew bored, leaving the light off and throwing her arm over her eyes. She carelessly tossed the Deluminator onto the table, satisfied by the noise it made when it bounced off and landed on the floor.

"Do try to be more careful with that. We need it for the plan," Hermione said, aggravation lacing her words.

"I don't care, I'm so bored. When can we leave?" Bellatrix almost whined.

"I'm concerned about using Minerva's floo. I don't really know how they work so I don't know if it will give you away," Hermione explained, flipping through the book in her hand for answers.

"It won't. They aren't able to distinguish multiple magical signatures. As long as I'm with you we'll be fine."

"Oh. Can people distinguish an individual's magical signature?" Hermione couldn't help the curiosity bubbling in her chest, something she hadn't felt for a long time. She had a lot to learn from Bellatrix.

Bellatrix smiled tenderly at her witch's curiosity. "It has been thought to be possible, but as far as I know it hasn't been documented."

Hermione recognized the gleam in the dark witch's eyes, knowing she wasn't telling the full story. "You can do it can't you?"

"Good girl," Bellatrix purred, satisfied with the rapidness that Hermione pieced it together, "And before you ask, the answer is yes."

Hermione beamed, excited at the prospect of learning from Bellatrix. Or even having something to learn. She stood, holding out her arm and waiting for Bellatrix to perch on it. As soon as she was comfortable, Hermione left her chambers and headed toward Minerva's office. Bellatrix could barely contain herself at the idea of going out in her human form. Maybe she could convince Hermione to make regular trips even after they found what they needed. She knew it wouldn't be hard.

"Hermione! So nice to see you. Are you ready?" Minerva asked as Hermione entered her office.

"Yes, I'm really looking forward to being in the Muggle world for a bit. I think it'll be good for me."

Minerva smiled brightly, gesturing Hermione toward her floo. Hermione grabbed a handful of powder, contemplating where she wanted to go. She didn't want to go somewhere populated with witches and wizards so she would be left alone. Bellatrix was already antsy enough and she didn't need anyone distracting her. The Leaky Cauldron would certainly be too busy, unless she cast a Disillusionment charm over herself. She supposed it wouldn't be too difficult, and she couldn't think of a better place. Hermione stepped into Minerva's floo, letting go of the powder as she clearly whispered her destination.

Hermione emerged in the Leaky Cauldron, casting a see-me-not charm as she stepped out of the floo. Bellatrix fluffed her feathers in pride, staying quiet until Hermione navigated herself out of Diagon Alley and into the Muggle world. Slipping into an alley, Hermione nodded her head at Bellatrix, keeping an eye on the street. Bellatrix stretched, glad to be in her body and not having to worry about getting caught. She trailed her fingers along Hermione's arm, drawing the young witch's attention.

"It feels great to be out again. It's been so long."

Hermione smiled, eyes flicking over Bellatrix's face. For once, there was no impatience lacing her features, and there were hints of a smile lacing her face. Hermione transfigured the dark witch's clothes into something more normal for the Muggle world. Bellatrix looked at their outfits in disgust, but wasn't going to complain because she was just happy to be out in the open. Hermione beckoned to Bellatrix, leading them out into the street.

Bellatrix walked near Hermione's side, their arms occasionally brushing together as Hermione leisurely made a path through London. She knew Bellatrix would want to eat something while they were outside of Hogwarts.

"Bellatrix?" Hermione asked, low enough for only the two of them to hear.

"I'm right here," she reassured, sensing the discomfort Hermione wasn't aware of yet.

"Where's your home?"

Bellatrix was taken aback, her steps faltering slightly before she caught herself. She was quiet for a few moments and Hermione surveyed the witch quietly, not pushing the issue. Bellatrix's face twisted in a way Hermione had never seen before, almost like...sadness.

"I guess I- There isn't really anywhere I'd considered home before," Bellatrix whispered, voice barely traveling to Hermione.

Not knowing what to say, Hermione placed a hand on Bellatrix's elbow, squeezing reassuringly.

"Get your hands off me, you filthy mudblood!" Bellatrix hissed.

Hermione retracted, leading them into an unoccupied house, locking the doors. Bellatrix sneered at the Muggle paraphernalia, dragging her nails roughly across the couch.

"This house belonged to my parents," Hermione murmured, not afraid of Bellatrix but not wanting to anger her further.

"So?"

"So, we can stay here when we come to the Muggle world. They technically still own it but they won't be around."

"You want me to stay in this filth?" Bellatrix turned toward Hermione, exuding rage from every pore.

"You don't have to. I just figured it's better than my room at the castle. You don't have to be a raven and it's bigger. Nothing in it really matters either, so if anything were to break it wouldn't matter. Not that we couldn't fix it.

Bellatrix stalked toward Hermione, more feral than she had been since they went to Hogwarts. Hermione suppressed a shiver, excited about the beast that was Bellatrix Black. Eyeing the young witch up and down, Bellatrix predatorily circled Hermione. There was no fear, there never was, but Bellatrix could see Hermione quivering in anticipation. She could feel the need radiating off of Hermione, hitting her in waves. The air crackled with magic, building underneath Bellatrix's skin and Hermione knew this would be the most powerful _Crucio_ she had ever felt. Silently, she held out her wand to the dark witch, letting her arm fall after it was snatched out of her hand. The moment her hands met walnut, she pounced on Hermione, tackling the young witch to the floor.

" _Crucio_ _,"_ she breathed, digging her wand violently into Hermione's hip.

Hermione's mouth gaped, eyes torn between opening wide and shutting tight. Her entire body was crackling with the power radiating from Bellatrix's wand, worse than her every nerve ending being on fire. It was the most delicious pain she had ever experienced, her pupils dilating until her usual hazel couldn't be seen. Bellatrix held the spell until Hermione was on the verge of passing out, only releasing it long enough for the young witch to catch herself. It was more than she had ever given Hermione before, but she knew she could take it. Hermione's eyes began to roll back again, and Bellatrix released the spell, waiting for the flicker of recognition in Hermione's eyes before starting again. She was starting to feel better, but it wasn't enough. She needed something more, something different than magic.

"It's...upstairs," Hermione managed through grit teeth, unsure of how she was able to speak at all. Bellatrix knew in an instant what it was, and she was off Hermione and up the stairs so fast Hermione's eyes couldn't even follow. The young with let her eyes rest on the ceiling, unable to move except to breathe, and even that was difficult. Bellatrix returned, recreating the way they had been at Malfoy Manor.

"Such a good little mudblood, keeping everything of mine," Bellatrix crooned, dragging the dagger lightly over Hermione's flesh, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Hermione couldn't respond, electricity flowing through her veins. She had stolen it away when no one was looking, keeping it safe here. She knew it was safe here, knew her parents would never come back to London, but also knowing they weren't even aware of this house. She didn't erase just their memory of her, she erased their memory of their life here, leaving them with only the knowledge they needed to be dentists.

Bellatrix smiled cruelly, eliciting shivers from Hermione. Slowly, Bellatrix traced the letters she had carved into Hermione's arm, accentuating each new letter with a prick. Leaning lower, Bellatrix dragged her tongue slowly across Hermione's arm, sighing as blood touched her tongue. Ruby red clung to her lips, and the metallic taste of Hermione's blood made every muscle in her body relax. She tossed the knife carelessly to the side, holding her wand to Hermione's chest.

" _Crucio,"_ she whispered, holding the curse until Hermione passed out. Panting, she pulled the young witch into her lap, smoothing the sweaty chestnut tangles roughly. Back against the wall, Bellatrix idly massaged Hermione's arms. She didn't know why, but she was...happy. Happy Hermione had kept her dagger safe, and that she hadn't run away, and that she knew what Bellatrix had needed. She knew the young witch didn't mean to cause so much anger with her question, but she also knew Hermione didn't regret it. Bellatrix didn't either. She supposed that the closest thing to a home she had was Hermione, but before then, she had never truly felt like she belonged. Hermione made her feel wanted, and she genuinely enjoyed the young witch's company.

Bellatrix didn't know how long she sat there, cradling Hermione, but she woke with a start as Hermione groaned, signaling she was coming to. Bellatrix shushed her gently, running her fingertips soothingly over Hermione's arms. Hermione blinked slowly, her eyes taking several tries to focus. She groaned again, her entire body aching. She could vaguely feel some kind of sensation on her arms and warmth under her head. As her eyes focused, she opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"Easy," Bellatrix soothed, shushing the young witch. Hermione let her eyes fall closed soaking up the sensations. Her body was quivering, teeth chattering from the force of it. Bellatrix put her hands on either side of Hermione's face mumbling a sleep spell alongside a healing spell. Hermione settled into Bellatrix's lap, features and body relaxing into content. Bellatrix couldn't stop the soft smile from gracing her blood-stained lips. Slowly, she shifted the young witch into her arms, lifting her and carrying her upstairs. She had always preferred to do some things without magic.

Hermione woke, instinctively curling into the warmth in front of her. Her entire body was achingly sore, and every breath she drew burned, but not as bad as it should've. She felt a warm hand on her back, rubbing small circles across her shoulders.

"Bellatrix?" She mumbled, voice muffled by what she slowly realized was the witch in question.

"Easy, take it easy," Bellatrix whispered, holding Hermione to her when she tried to move. Hermione complied, stilling herself and inhaling the wild scent of Bellatrix. Bellatrix was stubbornly untamed, remaining wild just to spite those who disapprove of her. Hermione felt the stiffness of her body easing with each pass of Bellatrix's hand across her shoulders. She sighed contentedly, body relaxing into Bellatrix's warmth.

"Hermione," Bellatrix whispered after several long, quiet moments. Just like the first time her name had fallen off the dark witch's lips, warmth flooded Hermione and her heart stuttered, the seconds stretching into minutes, and the minutes into hours.

"Hmm?" Hermione tilted her head to look at the older witch, breath catching at the dark beauty surrounding her.

"We should eat."

Hermione nodded, reluctantly pulling away from Bellatrix and her warmth. She sat up, the motion mirrored by Bellatrix.

"We should go out to eat," Hermione suggested.

"Not before you shower," Bellatrix said, drawing Hermione's attention to the blood crusted on her arm. Hermione was suddenly aware of how filthy she was. She was sticky with dried sweat, her hair was matted, and blood was dried on her arm.

* * *

Kingsley sighed, running his hand down his face in frustration. He had hoped it wasn't what he thought but now he wasn't so sure. The evidence in front of him greatly worried him and he didn't want it to be true. He wanted more than anything for his mind to be playing tricks on him. It could be stress related, he supposed. Rebuilding hadn't been easy, and there was a lot of pressure as Minister regardless of the aftermath of war. This is what he tried to convince himself, but he knew it was no use. He sighed again, dropping the file onto his desk and resting his face in his hands.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: So, we are working toward some key changes in our two favorite witches. If you need some clarification to the beginning of this chapter, I would suggest going back to Chapter 9. It's been some time since regular updates, so I did have to go back and read through everything to make sure what I've been working on doesn't horribly conflict with what's already been written. I could ramble on or I could let you get on with your lives (and this next chapter). As always, I wish you well and hope you enjoy.**

'Twas grief enough to think mankind

All hollow, servile, insincere;

But worse to trust to my own mind

And find the same corruption there.

-Emily Bronte

 _I Am the Only Being Whose Doom_

* * *

Kingsley sat across from Minerva, steepling his fingers pensively, "Minerva, I've come across something concerning. It's about Hermione."

"What about her, Kingsley? I know she's been struggling with the aftermath of everything, but that's normal."

"I was reviewing her memory of the attack and something didn't sit right with me, so I did some digging into some files. I think you should take a look for yourself," he explained, handing Minerva a file from his robes.

Minerva opened it, sorting through the parchments within patiently, taking her time to read them all, before focusing on one in particular and breathing out, "Oh. I see."

"It's not that I don't trust Hermione, but it seems too coincidental. I hope you understand."

"Yes, of course, but surely there's another explanation. I mean, this is Hermione we're talking about. She knows more than anyone how dangerous Bellatrix is."

"Maybe she's under the Imperius curse-" Kingsley began, hoping to reassure Minerva.

"Absolutely not. Hermione is too stubborn, even at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange she would not succumb to an Imperius." The statement was said with more force and conviction than Kingsley had ever seen from the normally docile witch.

"Minerva is quite correct," Dumbledore chimed in, his eyes twinkling, "Hermione is not under the Imperius curse. She is acting of her own will and however confounding we find it, we must trust her. This seems to be what they both need. Have you not seen the improvement she has made, Kingsley?"

"You know I respect your words, Albus, but as Minister, it isn't something I can risk. Bellatrix is dangerous."

"You are looking at this through a narrow perspective, Kingsley. Bellatrix has yet to cause any harm while within these walls. Perhaps Hermione is the key to her sanity as Bellatrix is the key to hers."

"Albus, is it really Bellatrix?" Minerva asked.

"I cannot say for sure, but I've had my suspicions. Regardless, we should put our faith in Hermione. She is stronger than we give her credit for." Albus placed a jelly bean on his tongue, humming contently as apple pie bloomed on his tongue.

Kingsley opened his mouth to protest but he supposed Albus was right, "I will make an exception this once because I trust the both of you. However, should anything come of this I will hold you accountable. You're both capable enough to determine if she poses a threat."

"Thank you, Kingsley," Minerva sighed, grateful that he was letting it go for the moment. She trusted Hermione and had a strong desire to protect her no matter what. She would not tolerate any harm befalling the girl and would do anything in her power to keep the girl safe. It worried her that Bellatrix was more likely than not the constant company to the young witch, but she had seen a marked improvement in Hermione. Bellatrix was dangerous when she was hellbent on destruction, but so far nothing terrible had happened. She even seemed to be protecting Hermione, for whatever reason, and Minerva would not play a part in separating them unless it became necessary. Sure, there had been some...darker changes in the young witch, but even those seemed to benefit Hermione. She would not push the young witch for a definite answer, but she hoped Hermione would trust her with the information in time. Until then, she was content to be a defense for Hermione.

* * *

"Well, I'd call that a successful day, wouldn't you?" Bellatrix said, stretching her arms above her head as they exited the library.

"Yes, I've missed the library. The Hogwarts library smells better, but it was nice to be surrounded by so many books again," Hermione smiled contently, turning her face to the sun.

"I haven't felt this good in a long time," Bellatrix whispered, almost too quiet for Hermione to hear.

Hermione felt her lips twitch in a smile but didn't say anything. She was content to walk in silence with the dark witch. For once, the beasts were nowhere to be found and the constant whispers were entirely silent. It was a peace she hadn't known since before the car crash. Even Harry and Ron couldn't make things this peaceful. Bellatrix was different. Insanity drew them together, blurred the lines between Death Eater and Golden Girl. They were neither here nor there, neither good nor bad. They just were.

"I want you to teach me more," Hermione said suddenly.

Bellatrix blinked, "Of course. You have a lot to learn. Since we're limited to Hogwarts I'll have to teach you something quiet."

"Magic signatures. I want to learn that."

Hermione said it with such conviction that Bellatrix didn't even try to convince her otherwise. She had a feeling Hermione possessed the capability and it would be a welcome challenge for both of them. She knew Hermione felt sequestered as a teacher rather than a student. Hermione was brilliant and talented, but she was still young and had so much to learn herself. Bellatrix was never particularly patient, but something about teaching Hermione didn't get on her nerves. It was unusual, but she chalked it up to them being similar in many ways.

"We should get back," Bellatrix whispered dejectedly.

"Yeah, I'm sure my extended absence hasn't gone unnoticed."

Bellatrix hummed in agreement, following Hermione out of sight and transfiguring into a raven. She perched comfortably on Hermione's shoulder, tracing her beak from Hermione's temple to her chin. Hermione smiled, making her way back to the Leaky Cauldron. As she entered, she cast a notice-me-not and made her way to the floo. Minerva startled as Hermione emerged from the floo, shaken out of her reverie. She smiled gratefully at Hermione's safe return. Before she could say anything, Hermione sat across from her and summoned a pot of tea.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I checked my parent's house and it was empty, but it felt nice to spend a little time there. It's been a long time."

Minerva was speechless. She hadn't expected Hermione to be forthcoming with an explanation or in the mood to have tea with her.

"I know we haven't had much time to sit and talk. Things have been...intense. It's just a lot. Dealing with everything."

Minerva reached out, placing a hand on Hermione's knee, "I can only imagine. You've been through a lot in the past year alone, but you've been a central part since you were 11. It's too much to put on someone so young, and I'm sorry you had to be a part of it."

"I just...I guess I never realized how many people would die." Hermione held a sugar cube up to the raven on her shoulder, waiting until it had been taken to lower her arm. Tears welled in her eyes, and she took a sip of her tea to distract herself. Minerva gazed sympathetically at the young witch before her.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there for you as much as I should've been. I realize that I was busy with the school while you needed me."

"It's okay. I wanted nothing more than to be alone, but I'm grateful you let me stay at your cottage. I'm not sure where I'd be if you hadn't. Being there helped more than I thought it would."

Minerva smiled, sipping her own tea happily. Hermione was starting to seem more like her old self again. She hadn't realized how much she'd missed the brilliant young woman across from her.

"Minerva, I was wondering if I might be able to access the restricted section? I came across some subjects I'd like to know more about."

"Hermione, you are a teacher here, not a student. Of course, you have access to the restricted section. All I ask is that you be careful, and please feel free to come to me."

"Thank you. I should go, I have to prepare for classes tomorrow." Hermione stood and as she reached the door she hesitated. "Minerva? I missed you."

"I missed you too, Hermione." Minerva smiled as Hermione left, the soft click signaling her exit.

Hermione headed straight for her room, weaving through the hallways until she reached her door. As soon as it was closed behind her, Bellatrix was on the couch, stretching out and letting her head loll toward Hermione.

"Shall we get to it?" Bellatrix asked, gesturing to the floor in front of the couch. Hermione nodded, coming over to sit between the couch and the fireplace, facing Bellatrix. She waited patiently for Bellatrix's instructions, letting her eyes fall closed so she could focus.

"Such a smart girl," Bellatrix crooned, "It helps to keep them closed in the beginning. Now, you have to be able to feel the magic before you can determine who it belongs to. So, focus on feeling the change in the air when there's magic present."

Hermione kept her eyes closed, sitting as still as she could. Bellatrix gathered her magic, letting it simmer under her skin and leak into the air. Hermione's brow furrowed, sensing a force pushing and pulling in the air. She focused her attention on it, trying to grab it with her mind. She grit her teeth, growing frustrated at the way it kept slipping out of her grasp. Bellatrix pulled her magic back, putting her hands on Hermione's shoulders and giving her a light shake.

"Easy. Don't force it, you'll only make it more difficult."

Hermione huffed, nodding so Bellatrix would continue. She felt it again, the charge in the air as Bellatrix's magic seeped into it. She let it settle in the air, slowly reaching her mind toward it and letting them wind together. She felt it pulling her and she couldn't resist, following it back to Bellatrix. The energy settled beneath Bellatrix's skin, but Hermione could still feel it, was drawn to it the way she was drawn to Bellatrix. She could feel the residual magic from the dark witch and the way it seemed to curl around her protectively.

"Hermione," Bellatrix said, applying pressure to the young witch's shoulders as she shook her. She could hear it at the edge of her mind, the gentle calling of Bellatrix's voice. It was difficult to pull away from the magic surrounding her, wrapping around her mind and pulling her with it. It felt right. Bellatrix's magic was warm but also cold, a scorching desert and a freezing tundra. It was firm but soft, everything Bellatrix was herself. Hermione couldn't get enough. This was more of Bellatrix than she could've ever imagined being able to see. Her magic danced around Hermione's mind, pushing and pulling, coaxing her into its rhythm.

"Hermione," Bellatrix said louder, shaking her harder. Hermione could feel the magic calling to her, hypnotizing despite the outside disturbance.

Bellatrix growled, strongly pulling her magic back but using caution so Hermione wouldn't go with it. She detangled her magic from Hermione's mind, calling her name to bring her back. She hadn't expected Hermione to take to the magic as much as she did and worried she might have moved too quickly. Hermione's eyes opened slowly, her pupils dilated and her breath coming fast.

"Why did you do that?" she asked aggressively.

Bellatrix bared her teeth, daring Hermione to challenge her, "You were trapped in it. Magic is dangerous. It sucks you in and keeps you there."

"Again."

"No."

Before Hermione could open her mouth, she was flat on her back with Bellatrix on top of her. "Don't argue with me, girl."

Hermione's breaths were coming fast for a different reason now. Part of her wanted to push Bellatrix, to bring back the feral witch from yesterday.

"No. You're spiraling into it too fast," Bellatrix hissed as if she could sense Hermione's thoughts.

"I want it," Hermione protested.

"Listen to me, Hermione. Magic isn't something you want to get lost in, it's worse than insanity. It consumes every part of you. Insanity leaves you broken but still here. Magic doesn't. Magic takes everything, and as much as you want to destroy yourself I need you here at my side. You can't leave me." By the time Bellatrix finished speaking, she was slumped over Hermione, barely holding her wrists against the floor. Hermione stilled, blinking and shaking her head.

"I-I won't leave you. I promise," Hermione rasped, suddenly aware of herself again. Bellatrix nodded into Hermione's shoulder, resting her weight onto the young witch. Hermione let her body relax, easing her wrists out of Bellatrix's grip and winding them around her waist. She had never seen Bellatrix so vulnerable before and it scared her. There was something about it that seemed so wrong, and she wasn't sure if she was supposed to comfort the dark witch.

Hermione made soothing circles on Bellatrix's back, enjoying the feeling of Bellatrix's warmth on top of her. Something about the dark witch called to her, that's why her magic was so irresistible. She desperately wanted Bellatrix to consume every part of her, to take the monsters away from her, to make her into a monster. She wanted Bellatrix to destroy her, corrupt her. She could teach Hermione so much, more than she could learn from anyone else. Bellatrix would give her power no one else would, and she could use that power for self-destruction.

"Hermione," Bellatrix whispered, her breath tickling Hermione's neck, "You have to be careful with how much you take, with how much you let yourself get lost. You need to travel down the path of insanity at my side."

Hermione stifled a moan, Bellatrix's breath warm on her neck, making her hair stand on end. She managed a nod, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. Her breaths were shaky, the closeness of Bellatrix making her mind fuzzy. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything before.

"Yes," Hermione breathed, reaching for Bellatrix as the witch moved back onto the couch.

Bellatrix needed the distance between them. Being close to Hermione messed with her mind, making it fuzzy in ways insanity didn't. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but the more time she spent around Hermione, the more she let her carefully constructed walls down. She had never felt this way before, never needed somebody as much as she needed Hermione. She yearned to drive the girl further into insanity, to destroy every vestige of sanity, and at the same time, she yearned to save her. It was conflicting, part of her wanting one thing and the other part wanting the opposite. She couldn't help it, Hermione confused her, made her want two opposite things at the same time and she didn't know how to choose. In many ways, Hermione made her feel the way she did before she gave in to insanity. It was almost like a clock was being turned back, undoing all the damage that had been done to her.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: So, I've been sitting on this chapter for at least a week now, trying to figure out if I want to post it or have an intermediary chapter. At long last, I have decided to just post it because that means having to write a chapter between this one and the last chapter, which would mean you all, my dear readers, would be subjected to even more torturous waiting. I've put a lot of thought into how I wanted this chapter to play out in terms of the key events in it. I was debating between a few different ways to do this, but I chose this way because I feel like it best fits into how things are gonna go down later.**

 **Like I've said, I need key lines to be crossed to push both Hermione and Bellatrix to where they need to be for this story. This marks a crucial turning point for Hermione further into the darkness, so if you aren't down with that, you've been warned. That being said, feel free to PM me with any questions or let me know what you think. My goal is to provide the best story I can for all of you, my dear readers. I'll have the next chapter out as soon as I can.**

 **As always, know that you are greatly appreciated for your continued support of this story, even when I disappear for long periods of time.**

Remembering you fallen into my arms  
Crying for the death of your heart  
You were stone white  
So delicate  
Lost in the cold  
You were always so lost in the dark  
Remembering you how you used to be  
Slow drowned  
You were angels  
So much more than everything  
Hold for the last time then slip away quietly  
Open my eyes  
But I never see anything

-The Cure

 _Pictures of You_

* * *

Hermione stood at the edge of Black Lake, the cold water lapping against her bare toes. Bellatrix was perched on a nearby tree, keeping an eye on the young witch. She had tried to maintain some distance but found it difficult to want to. For right now though, it was easier to keep an eye out for anything, it was just a bonus that she also got some space from the girl. It was vexing, but not in the way Bellatrix was used to. She was used to growing bored, or impatient, or annoyed, but she wasn't any of those things. Hermione made her...happy, and that's what vexed her. Happiness was something she hadn't felt in a long time. It didn't feel wrong, just unusual and Bellatrix wanted to sort herself out.

A cool breeze tickled the back of Hermione's neck. The weather was getting progressively colder and soon it would be winter. Hermione wiggled her toes, the action making tiny ripples across the water. She took a few steps forward, the rolled-up hems of her pants brushing the surface of the water. She could feel the pull of the water, trying to drag her deeper by her knees. Hermione held her ground. She had done this frequently when she was a student, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled squid. It took the better part of four years, but she had finally seen it after the Triwizard challenge. The water did not call to her as it seemed to do to others, so she had never been tempted to go further than her knees. She waited patiently, anticipating the strong tentacle of the squid who had taken a liking to her.

Hermione saw something break the surface of the water and knew it was only a matter of time before her friend revealed herself. A cool tentacle slid past her ankles, a gentle greeting of an old friend. Hermione smiled, happy that her time away hadn't changed anything. A moment later, the head of the squid breached the surface, coming as close to Hermione as she was able. A smile crossed her face as the tentacle wrapped firmly around her waist and hoisted her into the air.

"Hello, Lucy," Hermione laughed when she was directly in front of the squid's eye, "I missed you."

Lucy let out a noise between a chirp and a gurgle that Hermione interpreted as the return of her sentiment. The squid splashed in the water playfully with her remaining tentacles, chirp-gurgling the entire time.

"We can play for a little bit. I have a class soon."

Lucy chirp-gurgled again, loosening her grip on Hermione a fraction.

"What? No, she can't play. She can't be caught here, Lucy."

A noise of sadness exited the friendly squid.

"I know, she misses you too. I had a hard time getting her to see reason. Maybe over the holiday nights when there are fewer people."

Lucy chirp-gurgled in acquiescence, splashing more playfully. Hermione laughed, nodding her head excitedly. Lucy gave Hermione a gentle toss upwards, deftly catching her just before she hit the water. For whatever reason, Hermione had always enjoyed being juggled by Lucy. It was much better than the time she took a ride on the Whomping Willow. Lucy was gentle and had never hurt or dropped Hermione before. It was thrilling to be in the air and she had a brief wondering if this is what it felt like when Bellatrix flew. The wind rushed past her as she rose and fell in the air, seamlessly caught by Lucy each time.

Bellatrix watched Hermione out of the corner of her eye, her focus on the forest and the grounds. She could feel Hermione's energy on her periphery, steadily climbing the more she played with Lucy. From her perch, Bellatrix spotted a group of students growing slowly closer and ruffled her feathers irately. With a huff, she left her perch, arcing toward Hermione. She felt the buzz of magic, not particularly strong but headed toward Hermione and on instinct, she put herself in its path to protect her.

Hermione turned her head, sensing a change in the air that faintly resembled magic. Between being caught and tossed, it was difficult to pinpoint where it was coming from until she saw Bellatrix falling. Startled, Lucy rapidly retreated into the water, leaving Hermione to plummet before hitting the water with a splash. It disoriented her and she shook her head, feeling the invisible hands of the Black Lake trying to pull her deeper. She ignored them, swimming in the direction she thought Bellatrix was in. Hermione knew Lucy was fine, just startled by the collision of the spell. She was a gentle creature, easily spooked and Hermione forgave the squid for hiding.

With each passing second, Bellatrix struggled to come to her senses, knowing she was running out of time. Each moment that passed, she became more afraid that she would drown. Wings weren't useful for swimming and she didn't have the mental fortitude to shift, never mind how compromising that would be. No, it would be best if she drowned, Hermione would still be safe if a bit traumatized. Bellatrix had never really cared about her own life, but she still struggled to understand why she was so willing to give it up for the young witch she had taken a genuine liking to. She offered no resistance to the strong hands of the Black Lake, sinking further down. Bellatrix wasn't afraid. There were worse things than drowning, many of which she had already endured. It didn't matter that she had just begun to look forward to life again. Nothing really mattered except Hermione, that's why she had protected her without a thought. Truthfully, she didn't even know what she had done until she hit the dark, cold water, but she wouldn't resist this time. Even as her lungs began to burn and her vision grew dim, Bellatrix accepted her fate.

Hermione was frantically searching for Bellatrix, ignoring the burning in her lungs. She had to find Bellatrix, had to know why she hadn't just warned her so she could cast a protection charm. Hermione needed to know. Her clothes were heavy with the weight of the water but she resisted its added pull. Finding Bellatrix was more important than anything else at that moment, not because Hermione belonged to Bellatrix-she did-but because she cared for the dark witch. Hermione cared more than she wanted to admit to herself, but it was true. Bellatrix brought her life when she had wanted death, had made her stronger than she was before. For Hermione, there was no life without Bellatrix. She would rather drown with Bellatrix than ever have to live without her, but she wasn't ready to give up. For the first time in her life, Hermione fought for her own life, fought against everything to save the life of the witch she loved more than anyone she ever had before.

With that realization, Hermione swam with renewed strength, the tightness in her chest suddenly vanishing. Swimming with one hand, she felt around with her other for her wand, feeling a wave of electric energy move through her as her fingertips brushed it. With more strength than she ever had before, Hermione summoned Bellatrix to her, wrapping an arm protectively around the raven. She pointed her wand downward, silently casting a spell to propel her through the water. As Hermione broke the surface, she couldn't help but gasp for air, sending herself into a subsequent coughing fit. Hermione struggled toward the shore, fighting the downward drag of her clothes and the lake. Mercifully, she had yet to encounter any of the nefarious inhabitants of the lake and she prayed she wouldn't. Her energy was quickly being drained, and she was tempted to just let go and let the lake take her and Bellatrix.

Minerva dispelled the group of students away from the lake and back toward the castle, her authoritative gaze quickly intimidating the students. She had seen Hermione fall from the window in her office and she had rushed down as fast as she could, summoning Madam Pomfrey on her way. She knew Hermione had never been one to be tempted by the pull of the lake, had made sure of it when the young witch had first met Lucy. That's not to say she wasn't worried, she was, but she believed in Hermione's abilities. The lake was dangerous, true, but Hermione was capable and if she wasn't, well, it's a good thing Minerva had seen her fall. She waited for what felt like forever, edging into the water with each moment that passed. She was ready to dive in herself when Hermione broke the surface, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had grown increasingly anxious, but now that Hermione was at the surface, helping her would be so much easier. As the young witch descended into coughs, Minerva waved her wand, creating a current to bring Hermione closer, while at the same time she waded further into the water.

Hermione could barely keep herself afloat when the pull of the water changed, moving her closer to shore, and the person she could only assume was Minerva. Her entire body was heavy and she was worried about Bellatrix. She couldn't tell if she was breathing or not, and she had a strange thought that Bellatrix's death would be her Boggart. It felt right. She was afraid, unsure of what to do and barely conscious herself. Her limbs faltered, and Hermione had no choice but to let the current carry her until two pairs of lean arms wrapped around her and pulled her out of the water. Before Hermione could even begin shivering, she felt the warmth of a warming charm spread through her body. She was vaguely aware of someone trying to remove Bellatrix from her grasp and she protested as much as she could, trying to keep her grip and move away.

"Hermione, it's Madame Pomfrey, I need to remove her from your arms so I can check on her," Madam Pomfrey explained gently, unfazed by Hermione.

"No, you can't. You can't take her away from me, you can't," Hermoine protested, trying to move away from the mediwitch. Her escape was halted by Minerva's careful hand on her shoulder and Hermione whipped her head to face her.

"Hermione-" Minerva began.

"No! You can't take her from me!" Hermione cried, voice breaking and tears beginning to well in her eyes. Minerva was speechless, having never seen Hermione like this before.

"Hermione, I need you to let go of her. I know she means a lot to you, which is why you have to let her go. I promise I will do everything I can," Madam Pomfrey reassured calmly.

"No. No. No." Hermione repeated softer, tears falling freely as she desperately held on to Bellatrix.

"Hermione," Minerva whispered, "I know how much she means to you, and I've already taken measures to protect both of you as much as I can."

Hermione looked up at Minerva, terror clear in her eyes at the prospect of Bellatrix being taken away. Minerva moved to kneel in front of Hermione, pulling the young witch into a gentle embrace.

"You know?" Hermione asked in a small voice.

"I promise no harm will come to either of you for as long as I can protect you."

Hermione nodded slowly, trusting her. Carefully, Hermione loosened her grip on the raven in her arms, allowing Madam Pomfrey to take Bellatrix into her arms. She moved to stand with the mediwitch, stumbling over her heavy feet. Minerva reached out a steadying arm, wrapping it supportively around the young witch's waist. As much as she wanted Hermione to rest, she knew these were the conditions of her trust, and Hermione had always been incredibly stubborn. Madam Pomfrey deftly weaved through the labyrinth of Hogwarts towards Hermione's room. She knew that this was not something to be handled in the Hospital Wing. This was something that required more secrecy and she was fine with that. She knew Minerva would never endanger anyone residing in Hogwarts, but she had also taken a vow to aid those in need, no matter who they are. Minerva coaxed Hermione into a chair, ready to assist Poppy however she could.

"I need to shift her, it'll be easier to treat her that way," Poppy said to Minerva. Minerva complied, pulling her wand from her robes, and casting a spell. Blue light emanated from her wand and the magic wrapped around Bellatrix and shifted her from raven to human. A collective sigh of relief left everyone in the room at the successful shift. They all knew the spell wouldn't have worked if she wasn't alive. Poppy gestured toward Hermione, turning her attention to the troublesome witch she remembered from school. With her expertise, she efficiently determined and corrected any issues she came across during her diagnostic. She moved with ease, taking her time to make sure she didn't miss anything. Minerva was capable enough to deal with Hermione in the interim.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered to Minerva, voice hoarse.

"Of course, Hermione," Minerva answered, looking over Hermione as best she could. She had cast a drying and cleaning charm over the young witch, knowing she wouldn't move until Bellatrix was taken care of.

"She'll be just fine, Hermione. Some rest is all she needs now. May I?" Poppy explained, approaching the young witch gently. At her nod of assent, she began looking over Hermione. The young witch could barely stay awake but she also wouldn't take her eyes off Bellatrix.

"Some rest would do you well, too, Hermione. A solid meal, too. Other than that, you may have a sore throat for a few days but nothing serious. If anything feels out of the ordinary or you'd like me to check on Bellatrix just ask."

"Thank you," Hermione rasped, exhaustion hitting her harder, "I'm so tired."

"Get some rest, Hermione. I'll check on you when I can and I'll make sure there's food here when you wake," Minerva said, rubbing the young witch's shoulders in a way she hoped was comforting. Hermione nodded, curling into the chair as the two older witches took their leave. She gazed longingly at Bellatrix, desperately wishing to hold her but unsure if it would go over well when the dark witch woke. Hermione didn't want Bellatrix to push her away and yet she wanted to just say fuck it and curl into the older witch. Hermione yawned, deciding, in the end, to crawl into bed next to the witch she supposed she loved. Hermione curled into Bellatrix's side, nestling between her arm and torso. As soon as she stilled, Hermione let sleep overtake her, too tired to stay awake any longer.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Welcome back my dear readers! I hope you enjoy this next installment of Bellatrix and Hermione featuring Minerva. As a heads up, the next chapter may be delayed depending on whether I have WiFi in the coming days but it is coming to a computer/phone screen near you. I'll post the next chapter as soon as I'm able once it's finished and I have a stable connection.**

 **In honor of all of you, I am toying with the idea of a collection of one-shots inspired by you, my dear readers. If you have anything in mind feel free to send it my way and I'll start compiling and writing.** **Thanks for all your support!**

 _And if I show you my dark side_  
 _Will you still hold me tonight?_  
 _And if I open my heart to you_  
 _And show you my weak side_  
 _What would you do?_

 _-_ Pink Floyd, The Final Cut

* * *

Bellatrix felt like she was floating, barely aware of a presence at her side. It melted into her, blurring the line between herself and whoever it was. To her surprise, she could actually breathe and feel her fingers and toes. She wasn't sure how it was possible, was sure she had drowned in the Black Lake, but here she was, within the depths of her own mind. She was clearly still very much alive, for whatever reason. She could only suppose Hermione had been able to get to her in time. That meant that Hermione had also survived, and she felt a pang of happiness flow through her at the thought. Bellatrix let her train of thought fade, growing bored and tired. She decided not to question it, didn't want to anymore. The heaviness of her body hit her, and she drifted back into unconsciousness.

* * *

Minerva paced her office slowly, going over the events that had taken place. She had been right to reassure Hermione of her safety, even though she hadn't been entirely sure the raven was Bellatrix. She meant it too, she would do whatever she could to protect Hermione, and by proxy, Bellatrix. Minerva found it didn't bother her as much as it should've. Bellatrix had done horrible things, to Hermione no less, but even when she was a student, she had always been a little misguided. Things had never been easy for Bellatrix, and so she had always given in to darker tendencies to escape, but Minerva saw a change in that. Bellatrix protected only those she considered family, always had, and even though it slightly disturbed Minerva, she would not deny the fact that Bellatrix had protected Hermione. She had even, for whatever reason, accompanied Hermione to the Muggle world, and Minerva suspected was the major cause of Hermione's happiness the day they returned. So, as much as it baffled and ate at her, Minerva would keep Bellatrix's presence from Kingsley unless it became necessary. That didn't mean she wouldn't have to attempt to put some rules in place.

* * *

Hermione dreamt of darkness, unrelenting darkness that seemed to choke the life out of everything around her. She was not immune to its effects, either. It was a consuming darkness that threatened to extinguish the little light she had left. Hermione wasn't sure if she cared. Now that she had rested and knew Bellatrix would be okay, she could only feel rage. Rage toward the student that had thought to cast a spell rather than think for themselves about whether any danger was even present. She could feel it growing inside her, a darkness she had known only once before. She didn't fight it, let it latch onto her soul. Unlike last time, she would not ignore it. The darkness would only come back, no matter how hard she denied it. Rather than fight against it, Hermione decided to embrace it. She was not afraid of it anymore, Bellatrix had shown her how to control it. Hermione would take the darkness and bend it to her will, making it into whatever she wanted it to be. Rising from the bed, Hermione dressed, readying herself for class. She would teach her students a new kind of lesson today.

Hermione strode into the Great Hall for breakfast. Since the school year had started, her attendance at meals had been sporadic. Lately, she had taken to eating in her room. She felt bare without Bellatrix on her shoulder, but she ignored the semi-surprised glances as she made her way to the teacher's table. The other teachers watched her curiously but knew better than to attempt a conversation with her. Hermione picked at her food, doing her best to ignore everything. She could feel the phantom pecking of Bellatrix reminding her to eat when she started to get lost in her thoughts. Hermione focused on that feeling as she let her mind wander the room, feeling the magic in the air. It wasn't as magnetic as Bellatrix's had been, the magic of everyone in the Great Hall didn't threaten to swallow her up and consume her. Only Bellatrix ever made her feel like that.

The students whispered amongst themselves, having already decided that they would all be on their best behavior when Hermione was around. They didn't dare misbehave, especially since one of them had injured her raven and she didn't have a clue who that was. They were terrified of breaking the relative peacefulness she seemed to have, and they didn't want to do anything to disrupt it. Normally, any meal in the Great Hall was rambunctious and far from peaceful, but today would be an exception.

"The best defense is a great offense. True or false?" Hermione addressed the class once they had settled down.

"True!" A few of the Quidditch players answered.

"Neither," Hermione stated bluntly, "Every situation is unique and requires careful consideration before you act. Until you know the intention of the other, you must prepare yourself to attack or defend as necessary. Attacking before making sure there is a danger is irresponsible. Being the first to attack gives you an edge, yes, but only when you know the other is hostile. That being said, I'd like you all to follow me, and anyone who draws their wand before I do will receive detention and reduced house points."

Hermione led her students out of the classroom and onto the grounds. They followed dutifully, nervous as to the lesson they were learning today. Hermione stopped between the Forbidden Forest and the Black Lake, waiting for her students to catch up.

"Professor, surely we aren't going in there?" One student asked, pointing to the Forbidden Forest.

"As a matter of fact, we are. Stay close to me and no harm will come to you, I promise. Defense Against the Dark Arts is more than knowing spells. It is about knowing when to attack and when to defend. When the moment to strike is right, exploit it, and if not, wait until you can. Attacking first does not guarantee success, and allows an experienced enemy to spot weaknesses. Remember not to draw your wand unless I instruct you to do so."

Hermione turned away from her students, leading them beyond the treeline. It was months ago that she had stood at the edge of the trees, ready to step into Bellatrix's grasp. She hadn't known at the time, but it explained the pull she felt. The dark witch drew her in and held her close, never letting her escape. Not that she wanted to, of course. The twisted comfort Bellatrix provided was better than anything she could have wanted. Hermione reigned in her thoughts, focusing on her surroundings. She had students to protect, even though she was half tempted to let the dark creatures lurking in the periphery snatch them up and devour them. A small smile appeared on her face at the gruesome thought. It wouldn't advance the plan, would probably hinder it, actually. Hermione didn't look back to make sure her students were following, she knew they were too afraid to stray from her. She also knew that they weren't in danger even from the dark creatures. They were hardly active during the day, and even then her own darkness was enough to keep them away. The lack of Bellatrix on her shoulder did make her feel cold and empty, but she was capable of making it through at least one day.

The path through the Forbidden Forest was clear, at least, it was to Hermione. Her students had more trouble than she did, occasionally stumbling or finding undergrowth in their path. Hermione supposed her newly accepted darkness offered her more protection from the seemingly sentient forest. She was content to be lost in it, wandering through the maze of trees and growth.

The students followed the path Hermione created obediently, but not without their trepidation. They were unnerved by the casual ease with which their professor wove through the trees, her posture too relaxed for such a threatening environment. If they were being honest, their professor terrified them. They hadn't expected someone of her reputation to be so...flat. They were naive to the ways of war, didn't see the gray that surrounded the world. They were too young to see past light and dark, good and bad. They had thought she was a hero, were thrilled when they first heard the news that Hermione Granger, the sole survivor of the Golden Trio, would be teaching them Defense Against the Dark Arts. Who better than the girl that survived torture at the hands of one of the most notorious witches in the world?

Hermione stopped abruptly, her head cocked to the side as she listened, trying to identify the source of the sound she had heard. Her students, thank Merlin, were blessedly silent, even if they were almost shaking with fear. Hermione made no move for her wand, and they struggled to do the same. They didn't understand how she could be so calm, surely they were about to be ripped to shreds. Hermione let her magic out into the air, using it to get a better picture of her surroundings. Her magic brushed against something familiar, and she knew there was no present danger. She deftly moved through the trees, leading her students closer to it. She hoped it would scare them just a little more. Hermione smiled as the familiar face of Bellatrix, in her raven form, of course, alighted from a tree and landed almost lovingly on her outstretched arm. Her students flinched at the sudden movement but resisted the urge to draw their wands.

"Glad to see you're feeling better," Hermione whispered, "though I think you nearly made a few of my students piss themselves."

In response, Bellatrix rubbed her feathered head against Hermione's cheek, scratching her slightly with her beak.

Hermione turned her attention to her students, her face a mask of cold neutrality, "So, you see that there was no danger present, but had you drawn your wand and senselessly attacked, you would have created two enemies needlessly. Even when you are terrified, and you feel your doom is near, stay your wand, because you may be among allies. The danger you create may be worse than the danger you face. It is not about winning, it is about survival."

Hermione's students breathed heavy sighs of relief. They recognized the end of class, Hermione always made it clear, even when it wasn't explicitly stated. They followed her through the trees once more, closer to where they entered than they had thought. The tension was erased from them as they stepped away from the forest, grateful to be out of the oppressive atmosphere. They didn't run, but they didn't linger, ready to be back in the warm, inviting castle.

"Minerva knows," Hermione stated plainly once her students were out of earshot. Bellatrix narrowed her eyes accusingly, digging her sharp talons into Hermione's soft flesh.

"She said she'll protect us."

Bellatrix tilted her head thoughtfully, considering the idea of their unlikely protector. She wasn't entirely surprised, the witch cared for Hermione a great deal. It wasn't ideal, sure, but there were benefits to it. As long as neither of them was suspicious in their actions and movements, they would be safe. Perhaps Bellatrix might actually be able to assume her human form more often, though only around Minerva. Still, it was better than nothing. She might even be able to teach Hermione more.

Hermione trudged back to the castle, intending to teach all her classes in a similar manner. She took a great deal of satisfaction from her students' terror and knew Bellatrix did too. Besides, it would be a good introduction to dueling. Assessing the opponent and finding their weaknesses was crucial to victory, but in the real world, it meant survival, and she was nothing if not a survivor.

* * *

Minerva knocked on the door to Hermione's office, patiently waiting for the quiet permission to enter. When it came, she opened the door, stepping slowly inside. The space was just as she had expected, a bit messy but overall organized. She was glad to see that Hermione had maintained even a small attribute from before the war. For whatever reason, the sight of Hermione's office brought a smile to her face. Hermione was behind the desk, attention on what appeared to be an essay. Polaris-or Bellatrix, she supposed-was perched on her shoulder, seemingly reading along. Hermione had yet to look up, probably expecting a student to have been the one to knock. Minerva found she didn't mind waiting for the young witch's attention. It was a nice change to see her so content and not as alone as Minerva had originally thought. Hermione had never been a very social person and had struggled with relating to her peers. For whatever reason, Bellatrix had given Hermione companionship when she had none. It was a little odd and unexpected, but life tended to be like that.

"Minerva, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was you, I thought it was a student. Please, sit," Hermione said, finally looking up from the essay-if you could call it that-she was grading.

"Don't worry, I haven't been waiting long. Besides, it's nice to see you working." Minerva sat across from Hermione, closely watched by Hermione and Bellatrix. "I just wanted to discuss some rules I feel are necessary. It would be helpful if you would assume your human form, but you don't have to."

Bellatrix considered Minerva for a moment, her head tilted in thought. After some internal deliberation, she decided she'd rather not be a bloody fucking bird if she had the opportunity not to.

"I will not tell Kingsley of your presence, though he does suspect it. In return, you will not endanger my students. I know it is pointless to ask you not to taunt them, so I won't, but if I feel that you have become a danger to anyone residing in this school I will inform him. In light of the...circumstances, Hermione, you may leave each weekend as long as your teaching duties are met. As Bellatrix will be accompanying you, there is no need for you to use my floo, but you may if you'd prefer. As unwise as it sounds, I trust you, Bellatrix, to keep her safe."

Bellatrix studied Minerva while she spoke, looking for any sign of deception. She was slightly surprised when there wasn't a trace. She hadn't expected Minerva to keep her identity a secret from even Kingsley, but she was grateful for it, and the relative freedom Minerva was offering. Even though she had no idea of what they were working toward, as long as they played nice and didn't cause trouble they would be fine. She could do that, she supposed. It meant she didn't have to worry about hiding as much.

"I will," Bellatrix said, looking toward Hermione, "I'll keep her safe."

Minerva nodded, satisfied with the way the conversation went. It was strange to see Bellatrix so much more like her old self than the insane Death Eater she had become. It gave Minerva hope that Hermione was being healed as much as Bellatrix was. It even brought a small bit of hope that her decision was sane and not entirely unwise. Given what she knew about both Hermione and Bellatrix, she felt confident in her decision, but Bellatrix had always been on the more troublesome side of things and she hoped it wouldn't influence Hermione too much.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: So, this chapter is on the shorter side for what I usually write for this story, but after pondering over it for however long it's been written, I've decided that it's finished. I know a lot of you have been waiting for this, well, something a little more than this, but still. As a warning, Hurricane Dorian may affect the next update as it is inching towards the US. I will do my best to write what I can. For those of you in FL, GA, SC, and NC, I hope you stay safe during the storm.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

Bellatrix hummed as she laid in Hermione's-well, theirs, really-bed, eyes focused sharply on the ceiling but not actually seeing. She had been enjoying her newfound relative freedom, even though it wasn't much. Hermione had...changed, the cause of her gleeful humming. She could sense it, the darkness the girl had accepted, wielding it almost masterfully. She was so _close_. There was nothing Bellatrix wanted more than to lay down the final pieces of madness within Hermione. Time, though. It would take time. She could not rush, for risk of breaking the poor girl irreversibly. Bellatrix had convinced Hermione to let her take them to Black Manor, well, Hermione had almost asked, but still. It would be a pivotal moment. It was not quite the same as Malfoy Manor, but it was close enough.

At the thought of Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix licked her lips, her pupils growing dark with want and need. She rose, stalking toward Hermione, who was sitting on the couch grading abominations. Bellatrix tore the essays away, discarding them almost carelessly on the floor and settling possessively on Hermione's lap. The young witch didn't move, didn't protest as she recognized the need in Bellatrix's eyes and immediately felt it reflected in her own. With a satisfied smirk, Bellatrix leaned forward, her breath warm on Hermione's neck. Hermione tensed, waiting for the bite she knew was coming, wanting it so badly her core throbbed.

Bellatrix pressed her lips against salty skin, slowly opening her mouth and letting her teeth drag across soft flesh. Slowly, slower than she ever had before, she bit down, feeling Hermione tense and relax underneath her. The sweetly metallic taste of the young witch's blood met her tongue as her teeth finally broke the skin of Hermione's neck, and she consumed it greedily. Hermione, in turn, gripped Bellatrix's lower back, sliding until she found exposed skin. She latched on, her fingernails digging harshly into ivory flesh, causing Bellatrix to shift in her lap, increasing the pressure. Hermione felt warmth envelop her fingertips, different from Bellatrix's usual warmth. She knew immediately she had drawn blood, and she sucked in a breath, her pupils nearly engulfing her irises. She moved her hands higher up Bellatrix's back, drawing them downward hard enough to leave trails of blood in their wake. Bellatrix sighed against her, her hands on Hermione's shoulders, pushing her further into the couch.

Bellatrix took a deep breath, moving her tongue slowly across the bite she had just made, savoring the deliciously sweet taste of Hermione's blood and the deliciously intoxicating sensation of her own blood flowing down her back slowly. Hermione moved one hand to grip dark curls, holding Bellatrix's head hostage as she mirrored the dark witch, biting into the surprisingly soft flesh of her neck hard enough to draw blood. A deep rumble spread through Hermione, originating from the dark witch on top of her. Experimentally, Hermione traced the mark she created, inexperienced compared to Bellatrix, but still effective. The dark witch on top of her stilled, the rumble more pronounced. Growing bolder, Hermione traced the bloody marks on Bellatrix's back while firmly moving her tongue over the bite she had inflicted. Bellatrix relaxed into her, the first time she had ever done so, and Hermione stilled, unsure if she should continue. Bellatrix panted, wanting to melt into the witch beneath her, but resisting the urge. It felt heavenly, like nothing she had ever experienced, and she had experienced such delicious pain. It was different when it came from Hermione, authentic if a bit unpracticed. When the girl stopped, Bellatrix caught her breath, shifting so her lips where next to Hermione's ear.

"You've learned so much, little witch, done so well. Shall I say the word you're dying to hear?"

"Please!" Hermione begged, the need drawing her in and manifesting itself between her legs.

Bellatrix was silent, waiting as Hermione squirmed underneath her. " _Crucio_."

Hermione gasped, her body tensing against Bellatrix's pushing up into her. Fire coursed through her entire body, settling firmly-and wetly-between her legs. Bellatrix knew and smiled her predatory smile as she eased her thigh between Hermione's legs, pushing down as the young witch pushed up. Hermione's hands tightened their grip on Bellatrix, drawing a pleased hum from the dark witch as she moved to nuzzle Hermione's neck, the gesture a mix of possessive love and untamed lust. Hermione could not begin to fathom how _good_ it felt to be _Crucioed._ She had come to find it more enjoyable than painful, especially at the expert hands of Bellatrix. Her back arched off the couch and into Bellatrix, the beginnings of unconsciousness blurring her vision. Not that she could see with the sheer amount of pleasure she felt. She struggled to take a full breath, her entire body warm and tense, melting into the warmth of Bellatrix. It washed over her in waves, shaking her entire body as Bellatrix released the spell, reversing their position so Hermione was on top, held gently to her. She stroked the young witch's back, whispering nonsense until Hermione relaxed completely. A light sheen of sweat covered her skin, her body still trembling and her breaths coming in pants. Her eyes were closed and she let her head rest on Bellatrix's chest, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing slowly bringing her back into awareness.

"It isn't supposed to feel like this. Good. It isn't supposed to feel good. But it does."

"That's because I want it to. You have to mean it. But the way you mean it can be different and that makes it feel different."

Hermione just nodded, winding her arms around Bellatrix's waist, "Teach me."

Bellatrix chuckled. "You'd have me teach you how to tell time."

"You're a good teacher," Hermione mumbled. Bellatrix felt her heart flip, silently cursing the bloody thing.

"You're a good student. That helps, otherwise, I'd have hexed you into oblivion before you could ask me to teach you."

Hermione hummed, growing too tired to carry on the conversation. Bellatrix had never let it go as far as it had this time, never let her cross the threshold to absolute pleasure. She had never come so undone before, been so utterly satisfied from Bellatrix's _Crucio_ before. It had always been more pain than pleasure, but this time, the pain and pleasure had matched each other, spasm for spasm, driving Hermione wild with arousal.

Bellatrix flicked her wrist, bringing the abominations up and grading them for the young witch. She would have been harsher, but she knew Hermione didn't care enough to be strict. It was easier to let students slide by with their essays and grade harshly when they perform. Bellatrix knew how Hermione graded, had studied her closely, and so she finished the stack and sent them to the now sleeping witch's desk. Absently, she stroked messy brown hair, letting herself get lost in thought again.

As Hermione began to stir, Bellatrix was brought back to reality, still holding Hermione to her. Bellatrix was still as Hermione shifted closer, resting her hand on the scar she had given Hermione. She could feel the slightly raised scar tissue through her sleeve.

"We need to strike the Ministry during the school year," Hermione mumbled sleepily, "that way it's harder to trace back to us."

Bellatrix hummed, nodding thoughtfully, "Good dreams?"

"Dreams of your victory."

"I like the sound of that. What else?"

"I want to practice dueling more." Hermione sat up, breaking out of Bellatrix's grip and stalking to her desk. "You graded them?"

"I was bored."

Hermione nodded, flipping through the first few before setting them back down. She held out her arm and Bellatrix took her unspoken cue to transfigure. Perching on Hermione's arm, Bellatrix bobbed her head up and down. Hermione had made more of an effort to show her face at meals-at Bellatrix's insistence-and rarely felt comfortable alone. Bellatrix found the noise of the Great Hall more bearable than being alone all the time, even though she had to be a bird. The wheels in both their heads were turning, trying to figure out the best way to take down the Ministry. They had gotten a little side-tracked, but now they were ready to focus on it again. They hadn't found anything they felt was useful at the library, but there really wasn't any rush to seize control. It would happen in time and if they did things the right way they wouldn't face as many issues later. Arthur would be the perfect person to use in their plan, so they just needed to find a way to develop the bombs and get Arthur to use them. Things were changing, around them, between them, and they needed to reaffirm their already tenuous grasp on reality.


	18. Chapter 18

**So, yikes, it's been some time since I've posted a chapter for this story. But, I have finally found the muse I needed to finish this chapter and I will have the next one up when I can. School comes first lest I be...EXPELLED. Which, according to Hermione, is the worst that could happen.**

 **That aside, I hope you're all well and excited for an update.**

* * *

Some reality got ahold of me  
And I don't think I'll escape  
Am I too attached to a memory?  
Stuck in my head for eternity  
Am I in a dream or the in between?

-Starset, _Waking Up_

* * *

A drop of sweat dripped off the tip of Hermione's nose, its course diverted by her panting. Despite the chill in the air, she was covered in sweat from Bellatrix's training. The older witch stored her wand as Hermione braced herself with her hands on her thighs. Her muscles shook with the effort of holding herself up, threatening to leave her collapsed in the overgrown grass of Black Manor. The dry grass crunched underneath her as she shifted her weight and stood tall. Bellatrix's face twitched with a hint of pride before she carefully schooled it into a mask of nothing. Hermione ignored the trembling in her arm as she held it outstretched, wand gripped loosely in her hand. When she was away from Hogwarts, she felt free. Ghosts of Harry and Ron lingered wherever she turned, but only when she began to forget them. But here, with Bellatrix, there were no lingering memories of them, no reason for them to be here.

"Let's try something new. Follow me," Bellatrix beckoned, waltzing through barely-there doors and into her Manor.

Hermione let her arm fall, tucking her wand up into her sleeve. The feel of the vinewood had become...strange. She had grown so comfortable with the walnut of Bellatrix's wand, and hers reminded her of her adventures with them. Obediently, she followed curiously after Bellatrix, casting wonderstruck glances at the ruined walls of Black Manor. Bellatrix was easy to follow, despite her speed. Her footfalls were nearly silent but Hermione had grown so accustomed to the older witch's everything that she was able to make them out clearly. Broken echoes bounced off the walls, live memories of what had happened here. Bellatrix was letting her see, was willingly exposing the moments captured in portraits of her own making.

The sharp inhale that Hermione took upon seeing the library almost choked her, and she couldn't help but let her jaw drop as she scanned the countless spines adorning the walls. Reverently, and looking to Bellatrix for permission, she ran her fingertips across the surely delicate spines, marveling at the eclectic variety of titles. Bellatrix threw herself onto a chair, picking up a book that had been carelessly discarded and flipping through the pages. Hermione let her unasked question hang between them, knowing it would be answered if Bellatrix wanted to.

"Third bookcase, center row, eighth book," came Bellatrix's voice. Hermione moved slowly toward the indicated book, taking her time to admire the ancient texts around her. As her fingers brushed the spine of the book Bellatrix wanted her to read, she gently worked it out of the shelf, taking care not to damage it. There was no title, at least, not one she could make out. The dark leather seemed to swallow the light around it, and the book was cold in her hands. Hermione knew the next instructions would be to open it, so she found a chair that was more or less capable of supporting her weight and made herself comfortable.

Hours passed before Hermione looked up from the book, captivated by its secrets. Bellatrix was haphazardly sprawled on top of a loveseat, chewing her lip as she poured over the pages. Hermione watched as her dark eyes flicked back and forth as she read each line, admired the full, red lip captured between teeth. She knew it was time to get back, the day was almost over and she had classes to prepare for. She wasn't eager to begin the lessons on dueling, and she doubted the ability of many students to handle it. She wasn't going to make it easy for them. Briefly, Hermione wondered what school would have been like if Bellatrix was the DADA professor.

"We should get back," Bellatrix sighed, tossing her book onto a decrepit table. Hermione nodded, placing her own book down with more care.

"No. Bring it with you," Bellatrix instructed.

* * *

Ginny stood next to Hermione at the front of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, trying her best to ignore the disturbingly intelligent narrow-eyed gaze of the raven perched on the brunette's shoulder. She was tuning out most of what Hermione was saying, already being an apt dueler due to circumstance. When Hermione had asked her to help demonstrate to her students for the dueling lecture, she was through the roof. She took it as a sign that Hermione was becoming more like her old self, and getting away from Professor Binns was an added bonus. As Ginny looked out at the class of second years, she wondered how she had grown up so quickly without noticing. It seemed like just yesterday she was a naive first year getting herself into trouble. Now the boy she had crushed on and her brother were dead. War had a way of changing people. Ginny dismissed the dark thought before it could show on her face, sensing the end of Hermione's lecture and the beginning of the demonstration.

As if to prove her right, Polaris vacated her perch in search of a new one. Hermione turned toward Ginny, narrating their actions for the students as they carried them out slower than they normally would. As they turned, rather than casting a spell, they moved back toward the center, preparing to go at full speed this time. Ginny had already been told ahead of time to stay her wand the first time, and she didn't dare go against her friend. Reaching their final step, both witches turned, a spell flying from each of their wands and colliding in the center. Ginny blinked in surprise, quickly composing herself as she constructed a tentative plan of attack. Hermione was brilliant, and Ginny knew her moves were predictable to the other witch, having practiced together and fought alongside each other more times than either of them cared to admit. Hermione, however, had never found a tactic that suited her, so she had always employed a new strategy each time, making her next move difficult for Ginny to predict.

"Expelliarmus!" She cast, ducking under a spell sent her way. She watched as Hermione redirected her spell with ease that she had never seen the older witch possess before and knew Hermione had been practicing alone.

Ginny dodged a flurry of spells, bobbing left and right before ducking into a roll. Springing to her feet, she simultaneously cast a stunner, hoping to catch Hermione by surprise. Hermione's movements were fluid, and Ginny knew she had seen the style of fighting before but couldn't place it at the moment. It was familiar, but not familiar enough that she knew why. Lost in thought, Ginny narrowly avoided Hermione's stunner, mentally shaking her thoughts away. She knew she wouldn't best Hermione, she rarely ever had, even when she employed her signature hex. Hermione's weakness had been dueling, but even when they would practice together she had usually drawn the redhead into a trap. Now, with a year on the run, no doubt having to become a good duelist by necessity, and the Battle of Hogwarts under her belt, Hermione was better than she had ever been.

Growing tired, Ginny was more sloppy with her spell work, eventually allowing Hermione to disarm her. The students were watching with rapt attention, many of them in awe of the skill each woman possessed. As Ginny's wand landed in Hermione's waiting hand, the students burst into applause.

"Thank you, Ginny. Fifteen points to Gryffindor for putting up a good fight," Hermione said, handing the redhead her wand back.

"Anytime, Professor," Ginny replied, cheeks flushing slightly at the praise. She had always looked up to the older bookworm, and to hear praise from her-something she hadn't heard since before she left-warmed her heart.

"Okay, everyone, I want you to get in pairs but make sure that your partner is from your own house," Hermione directed to the students, watching as they eagerly paired off, ready for something more involved than writing notes on a lecture.

* * *

Out of the corner of her eye, Minerva closely examined Hermione as they sat in the Great Hall. She had seemed to make great improvement in her health, attending almost every meal, save for the occasional time where she was reading or grading. She almost seemed happier too, feeding a bit to Bellatrix every now and then. The dark cloud that had seemed to be hanging over her had certainly lessened, though Minerva sensed there was still something else. Bellatrix's presence had certainly helped, though why that was, Minerva didn't know. She did know that Hermione was doing better, and that was most important to the now-Headmistress. Whatever form Hermione's happiness took, she would be hard-pressed to deny it, and allowing the young woman a little more freedom to come and go on weekends was certainly something that made her a little happier. Minerva imagined it would be hard for her, too, if she had just lost two friends that may as well be her brothers. They had practically grown up together inside the walls of the school, so it was no surprise that Hermione often seemed haunted by memories.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Alright, here we go! Here is a much longer chapter than normal. Because I appreciate you. How sappy of me. I'm curious to know what you all think of the lyrics/poetry I try to remember to put at the beginning of each chapter. Do you listen to the song as you read? Usually, I try to do something that either inspired me while writing the chapter or something thematically related. If there's any song/poem you think I should put I'm always down for new stuff.**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

She's the fire in the sin  
And I burn breathing her in  
Now it's love suicide  
And I sell my soul for the high  
Truth be told I don't mind  
'Cause her hand's my paradise

-Bryce Fox, _Horns_

* * *

Hermione was curled up in a chair in the library of Black Manor, Bellatrix sound asleep on the couch opposite her. Idly, she wondered how the other woman could sleep during one of her few moments of freedom. Although, Hermione had to admit sleeping without the fear of being caught was a lot different. Hermione slowly read the pages of her book, the same one she started last time. As of yet, Hermione couldn't determine what Bellatrix wanted to teach her. There had only been the crazed ranting of the author about the potency of blood and its importance for the magic in the book. Hermione didn't think the purpose of reading this was to put her in her place, Bellatrix didn't believe the blood nonsense any more than she did. She only read this part hoping there would be some useful knowledge in the application of the magic, and because she knew the importance of following Bellatrix's instructions. She was never told what page to turn to, so it was best if she just read all the pages. Still, it was slow going.

Bellatrix stirred, drawing Hermione's attention away from the book. She couldn't help but admire Bellatrix, as she had so many times before. For the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she was so drawn to the dark witch. Truthfully, she had been drawn to her since she first laid eyes on her. There was something so...forbidden about the older witch, which served to make her curious and, if she was honest, a little aroused. Hermione shifted, feeling the growing wetness between her legs and trying her best to ignore it, tearing her eyes off Bellatrix and turning back to her book. She had the feeling she was about to reach the end of the ravings and come to the beginning of what she was to learn. She could get through this. She had made it through so much worse.

Bellatrix slowly became aware of her surroundings, the smell of parchment, the fading sunlight, the occasional sound of a page turning. Cracking open her eyes, they wandered around her library before settling on Hermione, curled up in the same position she had been in when they got here. She was so focused on the book that she didn't notice Bellatrix watching her. Her eyes lingered on the brunette's face, tracing the lines of her cheekbones and the delicate curve of her lips. She had long ago accepted her attraction to women over men, hadn't been surprised to discover it in the first place. There was something alluring in being with another woman, and of course, it would make her father roll over in his grave. Her marriage to Lestrange had been a necessity, but they had their...arrangement. He never touched her, even he wasn't stupid enough to try, and they could both pursue whoever they wanted.

She took that moment to ponder what she wanted. Obviously, she wanted to seize control of the Ministry, that much was clear to her. And she definitely wanted Hermione at her side, but in what capacity? As her Lieutenant, sure, but more than that? Maybe? She couldn't deny her attraction, though she did try. She knew how the girl felt, it was obvious to Bellatrix. The desire. The lust. The...well, something else. Something she no longer had the capacity to recognize. Of course, she cared for the girl, was preparing to groom her into one of the most powerful witches in history, just as she was. But there was more than that. She cared as much as she had cared for her sisters before they betrayed her, but it was...different than that. More...powerful. Hermione was hers, she had claimed her.

Letting out a low growl of frustration, Bellatrix pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, forgetting she wasn't alone.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, her attention drawn to the dark witch.

"Get up," she demanded, standing as Hermione jumped into a standing position, "Follow me. Bring the book."

Hermione didn't say a word as she followed Bellatrix once again through the decrepit walls of what used to be Black Manor. The portraits here were ripped, or burned, or both. Hermione wondered what secrets a building-well, not much of a building, anymore-held. Still, she followed the dark witch in front of her, questions in her mind she didn't dare voice. She would be given the answers to the important ones. Bellatrix made her way by memory, hardly needing to look around to see where they were. She had spent many tortured years here, enough to have learned every nook and cranny, and where everyone would be at any given time. Now it was just her, her parents dead, her sisters traitors. She wanted to hate them, almost could, but couldn't find it in herself no matter what they did to her. She led Hermione down a staircase only she knew about, circling downward in an almost neverending spiral. At the bottom, she watched Hermione glance around the cavern with awe, glowing blue stone the only light in the large space. It brought a small smile to her face, seeing the girl's expression of awe and wonder.

"You finished it?" Bellatrix asked, her eyes adjusting to the low light.

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"It describes an ancient family ritual, one that, as far as I know, hasn't been performed in generations. We're going to try it," Bellatrix explained, making her way to the center of the cavern, "What do you know about ley lines?"

"Well, not much. I know that some people believe they're paths for spirits, others believe they amplify abilities if you can tap into it," Hermione recalled, the pieces starting to come together, "We're on a ley line."

"Yes. From what I've found, most pureblood homes are built on top of a ley line, allowing the family to unknowingly tap into its power. Most purebloods don't know this anymore. This is what makes them special, not their blood. Growing up on a ley line, being constantly exposed to it, heightens abilities. Each family had their own ritual to allow the head to directly tap into the line at will, from anywhere. It is difficult to survive, it takes extreme discipline and focus, probably why the ritual became lost. We're going to do the one in that book," Bellatrix explained, caressing the smooth altar-like rock.

"What if it kills you?" Hermione asked, fear creeping into her voice.

"It won't. I'm the rightful heir to the title, but that's irrelevant. What's most important is the bond that's created in the process."

"The attendee of the ritual because permanently bound to the Head, allowing limited access to the ley line, determined by the Head," Hermione recited.

"You are to be my Lieutenant, this bond is important and it will make both of us stronger. In our current state, we have no hope of succeeding. We would be overwhelmed."

"How do we start?" Hermione asked, more confident.

"Sit. Remember what I taught you to do with your magic? See if you can feel the ley line," Bellatrix instructed, sitting cross-legged in front of Hermione. She held her magic closely to her, not wanting Hermione to be drawn to it like she seemed to be. Their magic gravitated together, and Bellatrix wasn't sure what to make of that.

"I feel it," Hermione gasped after several moments of silence.

"Good. Now, take it slow, let it mingle with your magic," Bellatrix whispered, observing Hermione for any signs they were moving too fast.

"It's-" Hermione began.

"A lot. I know. Stop when you need to. This can't be rushed. It takes time. Directly tapping into a line has killed witches and wizards who thought they could handle it."

"I'm not sure that last bit makes me feel better," Hermione retorted, drops of sweat forming on her brow.

"It wasn't meant to," Bellatrix said plainly, waiting-almost anxiously-for Hermione to pull her magic away.

With a grunt, Hermione opened her eyes, slumping forward slightly as the power and energy drained away from her. She felt hollow. Having that much power, no wonder purebloods thought they were better than everyone.

"We'll get there. We have time. I'd rather do it right than fuck it up," Bellatrix said, standing and turning away from Hermione.

If Hermione didn't know Bellatrix as well as she had come to, she would have thought Bellatrix was disappointed in her, but she heard the hint of pride lacing her words. Bellatrix got like this, sometimes pulling her closer than she thought possible and other times holding her at arm's length. It didn't bother her, as long as she never left. Hermione respected Bellatrix's need for distance, continuing to stay seated on the floor as Bellatrix wandered aimlessly. The book had been placed on the altar in preparation for the day Hermione was ready.

* * *

Hermione observed her students as they dueled each other, correcting where necessary and awarding house points where she thought it was deserved. Her mood had somewhat stabilized over the past few weeks, something her students were grateful for. Waiting for her students to finish, she leaned against her desk, watching closely until the last pair had finished.

"Good work, all of you. I wouldn't say any of you have mastered the skill, but now that you've more experience with dueling, can someone explain why disarming your opponent is not always a decisive victory outside of an honorable duel?" Hermione waited patiently for an answer, not entirely expecting one.

When she grew tired of waiting for an answer, she began, "Not every witch or wizard requires a wand for magic. There are many people who never use a wand when learning magic, and there are many people who master the ability to cast wandlessly. When faced with an opponent that is able to cast without a wand, disarming them is not enough. When fighting for your life, you must always assume your opponent does not need their wand, and either fight to stun or kill, depending on the situation. Some people rely on killing only as a last resort, and others use it regardless of the threat."

"Professor, during the war did you ever have to kill anyone?" a Slytherin asked.

Hermione thought back to her year on the run, to Malfoy Manor, and to the Battle at Hogwarts. Did she? It was mostly blurry, like trying to look through glasses that weren't her own. So many of her memories were like that. There were only a few she could remember clearly. A small frown adorned her face as she tried to remember. Did she want to know? The more she thought about it, the clearer her memories became. Just one memory, one with Ginny and Ron and...someone else. He was battling the two of them, about to overtake them when Hermione freed herself from her own battle with Yaxley by knocking him into the pavement so hard his head split open. Somehow, she managed to sneak up behind the man, surprising him a curse that ultimately ended in his death. And, of course, there was Dolohov, but that was technically after.

"Yes, I did," she finally answered, her voice quiet but still strong, "Please review stunning spells for next class. Dismissed."

Her students, grateful they weren't assigned an essay, quickly packed their belongings and trickled out of the classroom. Hermione watched them go, trying to ignore the sorrow she currently felt. There had been so much death, and was too powerless to prevent any of it. Bellatrix perched on her shoulder, rubbing her feathered head against Hermione's cheek. She let her beak just barely break the skin of Hermione's face, bringing her Lieutenant back to herself.

"Thanks," she mumbled, pushing off the desk to make her way to the Great Hall for dinner.

* * *

The stone of the cavern was cool underneath Hermione as she sat cross-legged on the floor. She reached out with her magic just as she did last time, allowing the power of the ley line to mingle with her own. It wasn't as shocking as it was last time, but still the change in power was tangible. It rushed through her veins, filled the air around her. She fought to keep the flow slow and steady, not wanting to overwhelm herself. She drew it in until she couldn't anymore, and just as quickly as the power filled her, it left, leaving her feeling just as hollow as before. She rested while Bellatrix paced the cavern, making note of all the important details. She was holding a piece of parchment in her hands, referencing it as she made her way around the cavern. She knew Hermione would progress fast, it shouldn't be too much longer. She wanted to make sure everything was just as it needed to be. She couldn't afford for this to be fucked up. Everything was riding on this going perfectly.

"Come on. Nothing else we can do here," Bellatrix said finally, pulling Hermione to her feet.

"How about a little duel?" Hermione proposed.

"Sounds like you're asking me to kick your ass," Bellatrix responded.

"Last I checked you love making me into the best Lieutenant I can be."

"Cheeky. I might have to make you pay for that," Bellatrix relented, leading the way into what used to be the garden.

Hermione couldn't stop the hammering of her pulse as she bowed to Bellatrix, both of them counting their steps aloud. Hermione wasted no time in starting her offense, firing off a quick barrage of spells, marveling at how easily Bellatrix evaded them all. The retaliation she got was strong, and didn't let up for some time. Left with no openings, Hermione was forced into switching to a defensive position, surprising herself with her ability to block and dodge Bellatrix's attack. A year ago she wouldn't have stood a chance. Hermione knew her only chance to stop defending was to create an opening, so she dropped her shield spell and fired a series of stunners as she dove into a roll to avoid the spells coming her way. Coming into a standing position, she cast a powerful Confringo at the ground in front of Bellatrix, just as she felt a binding spell wrap around her ankles, causing her to fall forward. She did her best to roll as she hit the ground, trying to reverse the spell while fending off Bellatrix. In the end, she grew too tired to keep on, and Bellatrix disarmed her after several powerful spells.

"Not bad. You did better than I thought. But I couldn't let you win. Now, I think it's time to celebrate," Bellatrix said, a wicked, predatory smile on her face.

Hermione knew what was coming, could feel the anticipation making her temperature rise as she waited for Bellatrix to cast her signature curse. She didn't have to wait long, she never did.

" _Crucio,_ " Bellatrix cast, pupils darkening as Hermione writhed in pain. Bellatrix knew how much Hermione could take. For the first few minutes, she would be lost in the pleasure of the pain, and before long it would grow to be overwhelming and she would pass out. This was Hermione's reward. She had done well, even made a half-decent attempt at getting herself out of her defensive position, and she had cast the first spells. Bellatrix was proud of her, of the progress she had made. She may be cruel at times, but she was always fair. Hard work would always be rewarded, and she knew this was what Hermione craved.

Bellatrix released the spell, watching with dark eyes as Hermione slowly stopped quivering. She had instinctively curled into a ball, and as the after-effects of the spell wore off, the young witch stretched her limbs gently, moving slowly until she was fully in control. Hermione had quickly learned to take it slow as the spell finished wearing off.

* * *

"We're going to play a game today. I hope you all reviewed your stunning spells because you'll be putting them to good use. Whoever would like to attempt to land one on me will earn fifty house points if they succeed. I will not fire a single spell, and you may use any stunner you know, but if you use anything other than a stunner, sixty house points will be deducted and you will serve a week of detention. Including weekends. It will be one-on-one, so if you were hoping to ambush me, you are out of luck. There is no penalty for trying, and you may try until you are successful or too tired to continue," Hermione announced to her class, making a point of showing them that her wand would be placed on her desk, out of reach.

Hermione walked to the center of the dueling mat, waiting for a student to approach. She had a feeling a Slytherin would make the first attempt. Her students hesitated, unsure of whether she was serious. Finally, a Slytherin boy approached her, a little nervously.

"Count off the steps," Hermione instructed, leaning into a bow as he approached.

"One, two, three, four," the boy swallowed, adjusting his grip on his wand, "Five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten."

Gulping, the boy spun around, finding his teacher standing passively twenty paces away, waiting for his attack. She didn't look prepared at all, and he felt a little more confident in his abilities. He didn't know many stunners, was only a second-year, after all, but it didn't matter. All he had to do was hit her with one spell. It didn't even have to be strong. He could conserve his energy, firing weaker spells in the hopes of outlasting her. He was a little doubtful he'd be able to do that, but it was the best strategy he had.

Casting his first spell, he was sure it was going to hit dead-on, but Hermione leaned at the last second, just enough for it to miss her. After the first spell, he was less hesitant in his actions. Hermione dodged the same way each time, leaning just enough for the spell to fly right past her. She was conserving her energy too, knowing that the smarter students would wait for everyone else to try in the hopes of catching her off guard. She couldn't let fifty house points be awarded easily. She had made it as fair as she could, not allowing herself to use magic even to defend. The second years were a lot different from Bellatrix, most of them wouldn't be skilled enough to fire multiple spells at a time, so she wouldn't have to constantly defend as she did with Bellatrix. Leaning out of the way of another spell, Hermione noticed her student beginning to grow tired, but still filled with enough determination that he could make a few more attempts. He made a good attempt, purposely not using his full strength when casting so he had more endurance, but Hermione had more stamina than he did, and in the end he let his wand drop, signalling his defeat.

"A strong first attempt with a thought-out approach, as well as being ambitious enough to go first. Fifteen points to Slytherin," Hermione said, watching the boy brighten with the praise.

A Hufflepuff approached next, and she gave him the same instructions, allowing her students as much time as they wished. She continued to dodge using as little energy as possible. She made it through nearly three-quarters of the class before she began to feel her energy starting to dip. She could feel Bellatrix watching her closely from the desk, and she was determined to live up to the expectation of being the older woman's Lieutenant. She wanted to earn praise from the dark witch she had pledged herself to. Another student yielded and the next approached. Hermione had hoped the incentive of fifty house points was enough to encourage every student to try, especially since there was no penalty for being unable to.

One-by-one, her students relented, unable to catch their professor off guard. A knock on the door sounded throughout the room despite the noise, and Hermione called out for the person to enter, not losing her concentration on the student currently attempting to hit her. She allowed the student to finish his assault before she turned to the guest.

"I know I'm no second year, but I don't suppose I could take a shot at you? For the honor of my house, of course," Ginny asked.

"If you want to practice, you can find me anytime. What do you need?" Hermione asked.

"Professor McGonagall sent me, but it can wait until after. I'll just watch. I'll pretend it's Quidditch," Ginny teased.

"And you waiting here has nothing to do with avoiding a lecture from Binns?" Hermione questioned, raising her brow.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Professor," she replied, hiding her smile.

"You can sit at my desk. Who's next?"

Hermione made her way back to the dueling mat, waiting for the next student. There were only a few left, all hoping that by the time they tried, Hermione would be too tired to dodge as smoothly. They tried as hard as they could, but Hermione had been trained by one of the best duelists alive, unbeknownst to her students, and she had lived through a war where one wrong move meant death. Some of her students tried to fake which way their spell would go, but Bellatrix had trained her extensively on how to spot when someone would try to fake. It manifested differently in everyone, but it was different from their normal cast, and that was the key. Try as they might, the students were unable to make their spells make contact.

"Excellent tries from both houses, ten points to each. Can anyone tell me the purpose of this game?" Hermione asked.

"So we improve our stamina?" One student answered uncertainly.

"Not quite. What's the one thing everyone did when they were on the offense?" Hermione prompted.

"Our spells. We didn't cast them successively, there was always time in between. And we all only cast one at a time, not multiple like you during the demonstration," a Hufflepuff answered.

"That's correct. Five points," Hermione said, "After every single one of your spells, you gave me time to recover. Now, I wouldn't exactly call myself your opponent, but in a duel, the more time your opponent has to rest, the longer the fight. In a real-world scenario, the prolonged duel leaves you exposed and drains your energy. This takes practice and discipline. For those of you that wish to improve by leaps and bounds, you may approach me and we will arrange practices. Dismissed."

Hermione watched her students leave, turning her full attention to Ginny.

"So, mum wrote a letter to McGonagall asking her to let you come to the Burrow for Christmas. McGonagall told her that you were free to make your own decisions about where to stay. And, well, Mum is in McGonagall's office demanding to speak to you. She sent me to let you know. You don't have to come. Mum can be a lot, and I know you need your space. I can tell her you had too much work to do," Ginny said, starting to rant.

"It's okay, Ginny. I suppose I should've expected her to want me to come. I didn't think she'd show up at school, though," Hermione said, reaching to grab her wand. Bellatrix looked at her with narrowed eyes, anger burning in the dark depths.

"Yeah, I didn't even know she wrote McGonagall. I would've told you."

"I know. Why don't you go ahead? Tell them I'll be there after I take care of some work. I just need a little time to prepare," Hermione answered.

"Yeah, okay. I'll be there the whole time," Ginny reassured, leaving her friend to gather her composure before facing the Weasley matron. She was well out of earshot when the lock of Hermione's door clicked.

"This is outrageous," Bellatrix began, the words coming out as a growl.

"I'm not going to stay there, Bellatrix. I can't. For one, you'd be trapped, and for two, we should take that time to do the ritual so we can recover or whatever," Hermione answered.

"She killed me, but you're still going to talk to her!" she spat.

"And once I do, she won't bother us. I'm not going to leave you. You know that. But I know you need me to prove it, and I will after dinner."

"Fine," Bellatrix relented, shifting back into a raven.

* * *

Molly paced Minerva's office, waiting anxiously for Hermione to arrive. Ginny had given up trying to get her mother to calm down, and Minerva watched silently, hoping that Hermione would be able to handle the encounter. The door creaked as it opened, and Molly's head shot up, her pacing instantly changing course to envelop Hermione in a hug before she was fully in the room.

"Hermione, dear," Molly began, squeezing the brunette tightly, "We've missed you. You know we're here for you, why haven't you visited?"

"It's been a lot to deal with," Hermione began, struggling out of the oppressive embrace, "I wasn't ready to face it all. I needed time away. I still do. I can't stay for Christmas. There are too many memories there. Too many ghosts. I can't face them. Not yet."

Molly's face dropped as soon as Hermione tried to break the hug, and her expression grew sadder as Hermione continued to explain. She let her arms fall to her sides, just noticing the raven that moved back to Hermione's shoulder. She surveyed the young woman in front of her, examining the ways she had changed since she had first met the girl. Feeling a lump in her throat, the Weasley matron nodded, not trusting herself to speak without tears forming. She moved back, giving Hermione space.

"I should go," Hermione stated quietly. She turned and left before anyone could stop her, making her way to her chambers. She wasn't in the mood to eat in the Great Hall, having to deal with the chaos didn't appeal to her at the moment.

Hermione locked the door as soon as it was closed, knowing when she turned around Bellatrix would be ready to hold her to her promise. As Hermione turned around, her body hit the door, making her breath leave her. Dazed, Hermione barely registered Bellatrix's command to get up. She hadn't even realized she wasn't standing. Rising to her feet, Hermione ignored the tilting of the room, focusing on Bellatrix instead. The dark witch's face was contorted with anger, the air crackling with energy.

"Stupefy!" She cast, taking great pleasure in the immediate disorientation Hermione experienced.

The young witch dropped to her knees, unable to think for several moments.

"Don't move," Bellatrix commanded, stalking over to the fireplace to start a fire.

Hermione stayed kneeling, barely moving to breathe. She wasn't sure what was coming, but she couldn't help the excitement she felt. Bellatrix beckoned her with a quick wave of her hand, and Hermione rushed over, returning to her kneeling position once she was in front of Bellatrix.

"Such a smart witch," Bellatrix murmured, bending her knees until her eyes were level with Hermione's, "If you move at all you will regret it."

Hermione swallowed, nervous for the first time since Bellatrix began mentoring her. She steeled herself, not knowing what was coming but having a pretty solid guess. Bellatrix tore off Hermione's sleeve, exposing the scar she had created. It was beautiful in a crude way, and her fingertips gently traced the skin as she grabbed Hermione by the wrist. Hermione allowed Bellatrix to manipulate her body through her arm, keeping herself still even as Bellatrix moved her arm closer to the fire. Heat kissed Hermione's skin, the flame close enough that she could feel it licking her skin. Bellatrix held her wand parallel to the ground, slowly rotating it so the tip was pointed at Hermione. As she did, a piece of flame branched off from the fire, wrapping around the scar on Hermione's forearm. She almost flinched at the suddenness and intensity of the heat, but forced herself to stay still, gritting her teeth as her flesh formed blisters. Bellatrix's lip twitched in pride, turning her wand away from Hermione and watching as the fire retreated. Hermione's eyes were filled with tears but she refused to let them fall, refused to let her body slump when the fire was no longer wrapped around her arm. Bellatrix knelt in front of Hermione, the tip of her wand pointed at the burned skin. She refused to look up at the young witch in front of her. Hermione struggled to understand what Bellatrix murmured as the skin of her arm became perfectly healed. All traces of the burn- and her scar- were gone.

"Before the Dark Lord gave us our Mark, he purified our flesh with fire. Unbeknownst to him, I managed to figure out how he did it after months of practicing on myself and researching in libraries," Bellatrix whispered, sliding her thumb across the perfect flesh, "Now, I'm going to give you a proper Mark. One that reflects your connection to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You are to be my Lieutenant."

Hermione understood the unspoken command to stay still and quiet as Bellatrix placed the tip of her wand against her forearm, the skin yielding to the pressure. A sensation akin to being submerged in cold water overtook Hermione, and she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. The sensation localized in her arm, wriggling as it took its shape. Hermione stared in awe as the magic under her skin condensed and dissipated, leaving behind the images of a greyhound and a raven in black on her arm.

"The greyhound is part of the family crest, signifying your soon-to-be permanent connection to my house, and the raven, well, that shouldn't be too hard to figure out," Bellatrix explained, "They are created by magic, so don't be surprised if they move. They're localized to that area but aren't strictly tied to it."

Hermione stared at her forearm, watching as the greyhound broke into a run, the raven beating its wings fiercely over its head. Both creatures stayed in place, but Hermione was still captivated by the action.

"Thank you," Hermione mumbled, keeping her body still even as her muscles cramped from staying in one position.

"Stand up," Bellatrix said, tossing her wand onto the couch and making her way to Hermione's desk. She half sat, half leaned against a corner, observing her Lieutenant. Hermione grunted as she hoisted herself onto her feet, her muscles delighting and protesting at the movement. Bellatrix nodded, unable- and slightly unwilling- to voice her thoughts.

* * *

Bellatrix stood at the altar-stone, meticulously centering the open book on its surface. Hermione doubled checked that they had the center of the ley-line located at the correct place, even though Bellatrix had checked every time they visited. They both knew Bellatrix was stalling. Everything was ready, they were ready, but Bellatrix insisted on checking everything to the point where even Hermione thought it was getting to be excessive. Finally, Bellatrix took her position over the ley line, crossing her legs and closing her eyes.

"Whatever happens, whatever you feel, don't stop reading," Bellatrix instructed once the sound of Hermione's footsteps ceased.

Hermione took a deep breath and began, feeling the energy in the cavern change as soon as she began. She could independently feel both the ley line and Bellatrix's magic, the air developing a static charge. Hermione didn't let herself get distracted, not when the hairs on her arms stood up, or the air felt like it was being sucked out of her lungs, not even when the force of Bellatrix's magic and the ley line caused a stone to crack. Hermione kept reading, long past the point where her voice grew hoarse. The sound of splitting rock and the sensation of electricity in the air called for her attention, but she knew if she stopped now the discharge would kill them both.

Bellatrix could vaguely make out the sound of Hermione's voice in the chaos of her mind. She could feel the ley line trying to simultaneously merge with her and strip her of her magic. Fighting for control, Bellatrix focused on the rhythmic cadence of the spell Hermione was repeating, letting it tether her to her state of relative sanity. She couldn't tell what was happening around her, but she persisted in siphoning the ley line into her consciousness, progressing slowly to avoid killing either one of them. She didn't know how much she needed to take, she just knew she would know when it was over.

A loud cracking sound nearly made Hermione jump out of her skin, and almost distracted her enough that she stopped reading, but she kept on, not sure when it would be over. The air around her grew lighter, less oppressive, and her eyes flicked to Bellatrix just long enough to see dark eyes open before her eyes turned back to the page. Hermione let her chanting die down slowly, solidifying the ancient magic at work. Bellatrix stood, stretching her arms above her head as she turned to face Hermione.

"It'll be a few days before the magic of the ley line is reestablished. Until then, neither of us will be able to tap into it, even here," Bellatrix said, leading them out of the cavern.

Hermione only nodded, her throat too sore to verbalize her response as she dutifully followed the dark witch. Bellatrix led them up a crumbling staircase, to a door that had certainly seen better days but was somehow still in one piece. Pushing it open with her toe, she entered the room, quickly Scourgifying the grime. Bellatrix flicked her wand, satisfied when it shut firmly behind Hermione. She stalked toward the younger witch, easing her against the door. Hermione met her gaze, pupils dilating with need.

Harshly, Bellatrix grabbed a fistful of Hermione's hair, yanking her head roughly to the side. She could practically taste Hermione's blood already, could see the artery jumping beneath her skin. Bellatrix inhaled deeply as she pressed her lips against the spot, feeling the pulsing of Hermione's blood as it careened through her body. Almost delicately, she bit into the soft skin until the sweetly metallic taste blossomed on her tongue, awakening every nerve in her body. Bellatrix pushed closer to the body essentially underneath her, not sure where her own body ended and Hermione's began. She felt a hand in her hair and nails on her waist, inhaling as warmth in the shape of half-moons spread through the area. Bellatrix slid the nails of her free hand over the bite she had just created, pulling her head away.

In a rare moment of assertiveness, Hermione leaned forward, trapping Bellatrix's blood-stained bottom lip between her teeth. She ran her tongue across it, collecting her own blood on her tongue as she roughly sucked Bellatrix's bottom lip. Indulging her, Bellatrix adjusted her grip to the back of Hermione's neck, swiftly darting her tongue across Hermione's upper lip. Hermione moaned, pulling Bellatrix closer by her hip.

"How far would you go for me, Hermione?" Bellatrix husked, brushing her lips against Hermione's ear.

At the sound of her name falling off the older woman's lips, Hermione nearly melted, but was able to respond with, "However far you asked me to."

Bellatrix hummed in satisfaction, sliding her hand down Hermione's back, "And how far do you want me to take you?"

Hermione's breath hitched as Bellatrix's hand reached the hem of her shirt. "As far as possible."

"And who do you belong to?" She inquired, sliding her hand up Hermione's abdomen.

"You," Hermione answered simply, arching into Bellatrix's warm hand.

"Crucio," Bellatrix whispered against Hermione's ear, her hand flat against Hermione's sternum and their bodies pushed together.

Hermione inhaled sharply as the curse made its way through her body, Bellatrix holding her up. Her pupils widened as she felt Hermione's tremors against her body and the fluttering of her heart against her hand. She poured a little more energy into the spell, delighting in Hermione's reaction. Hermione's body shook with such force Bellatrix could barely keep her pinned against the door. Hermione felt her body on the verge of collapse, her vision starting to swim as pleasure and pain flooded her body. She was acutely aware of Bellatrix pressed closely to her, the hand on her chest, even through the overwhelming sensations. She could always feel Bellatrix when she was near. Hermione's knees buckled, and Bellatrix supported her entire weight as she moved them to the bed, releasing the curse. Pulling back the blanket, Bellatrix settled them both into the bed, transfiguring their clothes into something more appropriate for sleeping. She pulled the blanket back up, wrapping her arms around the young witch and sleepily mumbling healing spells.


End file.
